Events conspire...
"I need a dump-truck mama, to unload my head." - B. Dylan
Sometimes everything goes up in smoke. Time for a clearing. Clear your mind, clear your head, clear your space. I like to live in my little shining bubble of creativity. It's an invisible, little bubble. It seems fragile, but it's not. I've carried it with me for many years. I guard it. Feed it. Live inside it.
Still most of the world doesn't care, doesn't know it even exists. Some of my closest friends and colleagues are clueless about it. So I must care for it on my own. A sacred space. Best not to talk about it much. Just know it's there. Keep it with mine.
Every once in awhile, you must clear it, unload it. Give it a chance to breathe. Recharge. And wait to be filled again.