What it feels like to start something
As I'm writing this, I'm working on a new website to launch in 2017 to bring together all my creative and business endeavours under one roof. I'm nine months into my maternity leave, with three months left and just six weeks to decide if I will go back to my day job or not. Rory has been in childcare one day a week for the last three weeks while I work on building my own business up to a place where I feel confidant to hand in my notice.
My work at the moment is a mixture of teaching knitting at two venues in London, freelance photography and a bit of freelance writing.
I was chatting to my friend Jo a few weeks ago about how there are so many podcasts out there talking to creatives with already-successful businesses. Even if they're in the first few years, they're still working full time for themselves. They talk about managing their inboxes, their clients and how they structure their workdays. It's fascinating, and I'm addicted to listening. But, as much as I love to listen I can't help feeling like their isn't ever much in the content that can really help me.
So I wanted to talk a bit about what it feels like to start something. To be right at the very beginning of your journey. Winging it, figuring all this stuff out. My inbox isn't full, I don't have a client list to manage and a full week of work to plan. I have an empty notebook, and empty diary, one day a week to spend by myself and a head full of ideas without much of a plan to make any of them happen.
To add to that, I can't really talk about any of this. Not online anyway. I'm still on maternity leave from my full time job, and haven't decided if I will go back to it at the end of the year or not. It's frustrating to have your head in two camps.