by Ben George
The spherical ball flew flyingly through the damn autumn leaves like a nauseating plane that was too small and round to be in any way practical. But flew it did, having been propelled as it had by Adam’s fearsome left foot. The kids who lived in Miyashita-koen still tell stories about that left foot and use words like “fearsome” and “left”. I stood vertical in the goalmouth, a moth to the flame, a fish in a barrel, a horse to water, and did what any decent Thursday morning goalkeeper is obliged to do: I saved the potential goal so hard and crushed the dreams of the understandably confident Adam.
If you’re an artist like me you probably struggle with feelings of doubt, irrelevance and despair on a regular basis. I often go through spells of “what am I doing?”, “why haven’t I made it yet?” to: “I’m not good enough,” “no one cares about what I’m making so why bother?” etc etc. The voices of doom are assholes and I’m gradually learning how to deal with them and not let them sabotage the good thing I’ve got going. In fact I’ve come up with a few tips as to how to stay cool when these voices start their onslaught.