i'm getting a little nervous. a few months ago, i started reading 'the artsist's way' and meeting with a friend to track our progress in revealing our inner artists to the world. a few silly writing exercises, drawings and romantic dates with myself later, and i can't stop thinking about just letting out what's been caught within. and with that, i've felt a shift in my concsiousness...a preparation of sorts. i'm hearing  sounds differently; seeing sights from alternate perspectives; feeling emotions in new ways. for instance, i don't just hear certain words anymore...but i see them as cartoon images of letters nestling close together and rapidly vibrating. or i see a  pair of cockeyed elvis-like lips, slowly speaking the sounds out. everyday events aren't just occuring anymore...but  they are flowing into being, perfectly choreographed to the silent soundtrack of a cinematic masterpiece borne from the quotidienne. i find myself staring at length at the sequins and glitter on my desk; things which reflect the emanating light. i want to stay home from work every day and take thick pens to large pieces of paper and write, write, write! i want to catch the glint in someone's eye and take their arm and adventure with them as though we've been friends for days...barreling through the expected and usual and just getting straight to the good stuff. the devil on my shoulder tells me to be practical. to give up these childish hopes and dreams. to focus. but i still don't want to give up. at 31, i'm not ready to resign...i'm just even more ready to GO...but to where?