I'm a much worse person when I'm not writing.
I get too much time inside my head, and that almost never leads to good things.
Which in turn leads me to write even when I should be stopping and recharging my batteries, which creates other problems, like burnout and also, much worse by far, shit writing.
I'm currently working on a bigger story, which I know I've been saying for a long-ass time, but I've got a feeling this could be something. So I worked on it for a while, and then needed to take a step back for my own good. They're like that, stories. They need space to breathe. So do writers, even if they won't really cop to it. Even if they struggle like mad, once they return.
My biggest issue is, I don't know how to take time off creating. Maybe I fill my schedule successfully with other things...for a day. And then, I want back. Start thinking, but how much time does it really need? I swear I've got an objective eye now. Fat chance.
I've recently returned to the story, after a couple months' absence, and I can safely say, it was a much-needed space. It awarded me a perspective I was clearly lacking before. There is time - and need -for much adjustment before the story is publication-ready.
But what have I been doing in the meantime?
Well. About a year ago, 
And me, with my two-bit artistic knowledge, went...I don't see why not.
I don't pride myself on being a good visual artist, although I do love to sketch, and I did even create some art myself for the trilogy I published a few years ago. This, however, I feared was on a different level. Still, I got myself a digital pad, and pretty much forgot about it for a time while I wrote out this big story.
But then, suddenly finding myself with fuck-all to do in the absence of writing, I remembered the pad. And, well, I dare say the results weren't half-bad.
The even bigger revelation to me was the fantastic way in which creative pursuits nurture and grow one another. I found the same thing in photography a while ago, that taking a photo-walk in the morning somehow meant writing better in the afternoon.
And now, taking my break from the keyboard, I found a much-needed and healthy creative outlet in sketching. In teaching myself a new trick, because I had zero idea about digital art before.
I liked seeing an improvement (albeit not a massive one - I will always be more a word person than a visual person). But also, that's kind of a neat thing - with writing, I'm more well-versed and less impressed by minor improvements, whereas here, every little thing was a win-thing. Neat. Even more, I liked the way it consumed me, very similarly to the way writing does on a constant basis. Maybe that's why I struggle with short projects - I like returning to an imaginary atelier and putting in the hours each day. Being sucked into a world, being exposed to new geographies and rules that only make sense in this fantastic place you temporarily inhabit.
"Yes, but what about this shading?"
Was a question I'd never considered before. Not because I don't care about art, but because I recognize my own mediocrity. I'm a strong writer, and don't sell myself short on that. But visual art, like music unfortunately, will always be a realm of mediocrity for me. I thought it was an insult to the craft, not to mention a waste of my creativity, to take myself seriously in it.
How wrong I was. How could it take me so long to realize that these endeavors, even if they will never be "it" for me, all have their place in the larger creative tapestry that has so far been life?
And how lucky I was to be pushed when I needed it.
I enjoyed myself so absurdly much these past few months, dedicating much of my afternoons to drawing out this strip thingy. And having come back now to my story, I see the ways in which it didn't let me stew in my own juices. In forcing me outside my comfort zone, it let me gain some insight that (I hope) will further and improve my story.
Why 'Hiving'?
Because we thought it up as a way to promote Hive. Because being a mediocre visual artist myself, I would've been the first to think "I'm sure proper artists can earn with their art, but who'd want to see my stuff?".
I imagine, if you tell someone new to Hive that "they can earn with their art", that's where their mind will go immediately.
And of course, it's a complex question. It never bothered me as a writer, even when I had a lot to learn. And boy, did the blockchain help me grow and develop my writing in the past decade. Maybe it can be so with someone's art. Maybe even with mine.
And secondly, I call it Hiving because if it weren't for Hive, it would've never happened. I wouldn't have known this part of myself. And that's kinda cool, I think.
We'll be publishing the results of this experiment on the 
