Is this the end?

I’m not one for work avoidance. Once I have an idea I feel compelled to run with it as far and as fast as I can go. But eventually the pace has to slacken.

It is always when I reach the last of a series, the end of a body of work, that I slow down. It is as if I am afraid to complete the project. The experience of creating the work is so pleasurable that I don’t wish the series to end. But I cannot continue this series forever. The work will become repetitive and stale. I know the end is coming. I welcome the end. And yet I don’t want it to happen either.

I am scared that no new ideas will come. I fear a creative block will mean I am no longer able to produce good work. I am scared of the nothingness that may follow.

And yet, life still goes on. The ideas come and new work is always made. Surely I have nothing to fear except an unwillingness to embrace the unkown.

As I ponder my own thoughts and words I have come to realise that I am simply describing an affirmation of my own mortality…

                                                                            …and a fear of death.

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