Ce Matin et Moi

When work gets crazy, casting a pushy shadow over my world, I have to fight hard to maintain hold of my life in full, to remind myself that there is much more beyond timelines and organization and "the man."

Last night I was in danger of walking further in the wrong direction, of unpacking my bags on the dark side. Bogged down with an endless list of to-do and not enough time to complete it in, it took a friend to save me. To throw me my coat and whisk me into the elevator - zipper forgotten, buttons agape - into a brisk cold where I gasped for air. By 10 o'clock, a glass of Malbec down the gullet, I was sane again.

I am back now, and I vow not to venture down that arid path so easily again. In support of this promise I have spent the first few hours of this morning on me - listening to French tapes; turning my open, sun-streamed studio into a yoga space (boy does stress draw the muscles tight); reading my friend and burgeoning art journalist Brienne Walshs latest posts for Art in America; making tea; indulging in a peak at The Sartorialist, which will inspire todays look; letting the alarm come and go, repeating itself a few times before I - there, it's off now.

All of these petit indulgences will make me late to work no doubt. But they have made all the difference. Thanks to what I've inhaled this morning I'll be able to exhale more graciously in my dealings with others. And probably be more productive. I am learning that it's not only OK to take care of me, it's mandatory. We must do for ourselves before we can do for others sometimes.

Enjoy your day, make sure it includes something just for you. You deserve it.