These days fear of death and disease dominate our thoughts as we retreat into the safety of our homes—those of us that have such a luxury—while everywhere, there is a rush to find answers, cures, rainbows, anything that gives us the hope of escape and a return to what we ironically called, “NORMAL”.

Creative people tend to be risk takers and with risk taking comes anxiety and a fair amount of self-doubt. Do I leap and fall or leap and fly? That’s a question I often face. Especially at 4 a.m.—the time of night when all impossible-to-answer-questions raise their heads.

Mountains beckon like a hand outstretched calling to me. It is a command to stand tall and fearless—step after step after step—lungs bursting, heart cramping. I know only one thing, I must give in to its power and majesty, I must be possessed before I can conquer.

Our lives are made up of millions and millions of units of time that flow from one into the other. Some stand out, many fade. From time to time, we call up a favorite so as to relive a story for which we have a particular fondness. Sometimes memories come flying in all on their own, triggered by some wisp of something we barely perceive. A smell, a sound, a pair of old shoes or a song from the past—really anything can trigger a flood of sensory memory—and all the longing and bittersweet thoughts that come with it.

Balance is one of those things we do without thinking or awareness until we lose balance. Anyone who has had an episode of vertigo knows what I am talking about. The last couple of weeks I have spent a fair amount of time ruminating about balance—paying attention to where and how balance or the lack of it impacts my life and work.

It is ironic that a few weeks ago I was convinced that winter had completely bypassed our little corner of the world. As I chirped about budding branches and peeking bulbs, winter decided I was being altogether too smug. This week we got walloped. Trapped indoors for several days in a world of white everything, my thoughts turned to color.

I operate a solo design shop—have for more than 20 years and counting. Which doesn’t mean that I do every single thing by myself. No, I, like many other solopreneurs have my coterie of adjunct service providers. Great people I can count on for marketing copy, commercial photography, coding, etc. But when it comes to getting business, keeping business and making business happy, I am definitely a solo shop.