Chain smoking—no, composting
Austin Kleon has written for years about the creative process of chain smoking. It’s never resonated with me; I can’t be that person of work every day even while a project is in progress. It ebbs and flows like the tide, days of rampant blooming interspersed with the fallow days of rootwork, day dreaming, glorious nothingness.
Composting, I call it.
Only today did the obvious thought pop in my mind: chain smoking in its literal form is unhealthy. It’s an addiction. It’s substance abuse. It takes a toll on your body. It makes me think of the glossy, ugly Mad Men days of peak capitalism.
No thank you. Composting for me. Soil regeneration. Sunlight and air. Rain. The tidal ebb and flow of moons, and days, and weather. The time to plant and the time to not plant. The time to rest and the time to grow. My little tomato pots that cannot produce endlessly, only in season, only with good soil and roots.