I am the scroll; I am she who writes on the scroll.

I spent several days working on the technical aspects of this blog. I researched (again!) how to design my own header. I searched widgets--some which will require tweaking over time, some of which have yet to be added. No more headaches from site maintenance; I want this blog to run itself so I can concentrate on my real work. It needs to 1) gather my business dates from the time I enter them into my own calendar 2) update my gallery instantly when I upload photos 3) show a word count of my novel so I can measure progress and 4) shamelessly solicit encouragement. My updates themselves will be short and sweet--concentrating on the challenges and soaring moments in my writing/art practice.

My idea was to start this blog and my creative New Year as my kids started school. A new dawn for us all. But with son starting before Labor Day and daughter starting after, there seemed no clear cut date for my debut. The first of any month seems so clean, and there is a beautiful chill in the air to day--so I am beginning now.

I have been trying to decide if my efforts today constitute worthy creative achievement or if I am starting this blog on a bad foot by offering the creation of this blog/site as an excuse not to write, not to paint. What are the rules here? What are my goals?

I want to finish another novel by the time my kids finish school in June 2010.

I'd like to do 12 (show worthy) paintings in a year.

But this is assuming I have something to say, something to show. I have half-written novels. Do I dust off one of them? Do I go with my children's book? Do I continue with smart women's fiction? (This is what my agent calls my genre. Unfortunately, there is no such designation in the bookstores. A marketer's nightmare and the excuse my publisher gave for not doing more to promote my novel.)

And paintings? What do I want to paint? I have been asked to do my work (which is Lovely!) but make it bigger, do landscapes, do local landscapes, do industrial landscapes, add a bride in the foreground, try a different medium. It is to the point where I wonder what parts of my Lovely! painting style do they want me to keep.

And so, I begin on this journey again. Trying to stay true to myself. Trying to keep to a schedule of output but at the same time being detached from outcome. And trying to drown out the words of my Dad when he asks (at every meeting), "Well, Jill, what should I tell people when they ask what you are doing?" My silence is always followed by the knife, "Should I just tell them you are a housewife?"

"Tell them 'I am the scroll; I am she who writes on the scroll.'"

That should shut them up temporarily.