takers?

A Saturday afternoon in November.

Like most good and responsible adults, I am cleaning, listening to my favorite band (thanks Dave, you rule), and aspiring toward a clean bedroom and no laundry on the floor.

And, like the nutter I am, also ponder life, death, and love while I work.

I am recently aware that my gift of creativity is squelched on several different levels: I work for someone else. Hence, my creative assets are roped in by another's boundaries.

I live with a way-too-conservative for even me, who needs 8 hours of sleep and structure. This is the hardest of my hurdles in life to jump.
(although, would it be any better were John a cigarette smoking, caffiene dependent freelance writer with a propensity for the bottle and spurts of late night creative genious? I don't know, at least I could paint at 3AM if that were the case. Although I don't know that we'd ever have clean underwear.)

As another year's door slowly starts closing, I am fated to look back on the last 12 months. Overall, they have been productive. And difficult. And I'm making decent money and can pay the bills, but I'm rutted. I need something new and different and exciting and challenging and beautiful and dangerous and passionate and creative.

Any takers?