I spent like 10 years of my life pretending to fly around on a broomstick and you’re asking me if preparing for a love scene was ‘tricky’ because the other person also had a penis?
Daily I work on my art but it feels as if I’m hardly making progress. I move slow as a snail or a turtle. I sometimes try to work faster, as if I can somehow speed up the process of learning my craft or achieving my goals. This doesn’t work. Moving fast only rushes your thoughts without you having time to contemplate what you’re doing. I have to be more painstaking in my approach. More disciplined.
Get scared. It will do you good. Smoke a bit, stare blankly at some ceilings, beat your head against some walls, refuse to see some people, paint and write. Get scared some more. Allow your little mind to do nothing but function. Stay inside, go out - I don’t care what you’ll do; but stay scared as hell. You will never be able to experience everything. So, please, do poetical justice to your soul and simply experience yourself.