I find myself writing about Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way again. I had the book on my shelf for ten years before doing more than flipping through it. Then I noticed a friend making interesting projects, something had given her fire. The Artist's Way she said. So I started with the morning pages and the chapter by chapter progress. I felt a fool on my first 'artist's date'. I didn't have a clue what I was doing. I stood on the beach at Brighton. I hadn't been using my phone camera since the old one got stolen on a train journey - grief at the lost images, lost memories. From out under the doubt and cynicism came the thought: well, I guess at least I could at least take a picture. I wasn't bowled over. But it was a something. I had begun.
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