Echoes of the Garage

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“You Have to Believe”

Daily writing prompt
What’s the best advice you’d give to someone younger than you?

📰 June 14, 2026 — 5:42 a.m.

I’ve been up since 5 a.m.

Fed Simba the furball.

He’s taken care of.

Now I’m sitting here.

I feel uneasy.

Honestly, I feel like going back to bed and not leaving the house.

Not because anything terrible happened.

Sometimes I’m just tired.

Then another thought shows up.

“You have to believe.”

Sometimes you have to go to the mirror and tell yourself:

You’re the shit.

Every morning.

🤣

I guess speaking to yourself can finally not be seen as crazy.

Well…

As long as nobody catches you doing it.

That’s good.

The funny thing is that most of us are talking to ourselves all day anyway.

We’re just quieter about it.

Some people tell themselves:

You can’t do it.

Others tell themselves:

Keep going.

Maybe the real question isn’t whether we talk to ourselves.

Maybe it’s what we’re saying.

Because eventually those conversations start shaping the day.

And sometimes, on mornings like this, that’s enough to get out the door.


💬 Reader Question

What is something you tell yourself when you’re having a difficult day?


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36 responses to ““You Have to Believe””

  1. Or, maybe it’s not you doing the talking.

    1. What lead you to believe that?

      1. By the way you worded that question, I can tell that no answer will satisfy you.

      2. if you ever create any new artwork and feel like sharing it, I’d be happy to see it. I enjoyed the piece you shared before.

      3. I always have one “in the works.” This stuff keeps me sane on this planet of yours.

        https://apollosdreams.wordpress.com/2026/06/16/just-something/

      4. Random question: do you like coffee?

      5. Random for sure. More like weird. Why do you ask?

      6. I like coffee. I didn’t used to. Last year, I started grinding my own beans and I’ve enjoyed it ever since. I only asked because I was curious.

      7. Ok. Sure, I drink coffee. Only in the morning, tho. I don’t go through all of that, tho.

      8. Fair enough.

      9. I switched to French Market brand – years ago. Something different about it. I’d be much too impatient to do it your way – but I bet it tastes better.

      10. I was never really a coffee guy before either. I gradually became one. For me, I think it’s less about the coffee and more about the routine. Grinding the beans, brewing it, sitting down for a few minutes. It helps me relax.

    1. One thing I like about your work is that it feels like individual fragments slowly becoming a creature. I never know exactly what I’m looking at, but it still feels alive.

      1. Now, that’s a unique perspective. No one has said that before. One thing I learned from my art professor, is to be true to yourself. That, is being a real artist.
        I admire your art. It’s also alive. I love the technique, but it’s beyond me. We all have our perspectives, which makes us true to ourselves – right?

      2. Art used to be easy for me to explain. Now it isn’t. I think the best explanation I have is that it makes me happy. I don’t always know why I draw something. I just know I enjoy the process.

      3. The process. Absolutely. I know exactly what you mean. Below is a link to my husband’s art. (David) He spends months on these videos. It’s the process, like you said.
        I do the soundtracks. (Not AI. Note for note, also took months)

      4. What stood out to me most was the lack of urgency. It felt like I was free to wander instead of trying to get somewhere.

      5. I told David what you said. He smiled and said “thank you.” We don’t allow comments on our video site, so he rarely (if ever) gets any feedback. Thank you again.

      6. David, you’re very welcome.

        Keep having fun. Keep creating. It’s enjoyable.

      7. He added: Ask him who he follows? Angels or Dodgers? (lol)
        By the way, my all-time favorite author comes from your area of the country. I read Cannery Row many years ago (John Steinbeck) and it’s given me another dimension to my mind – it seems. Every been to Monterey? Cannery Row, specifically.

      8. No, I’ve never been to Monterey or Cannery Row, but you’ve definitely made me curious. I just added Cannery Row to my Kindle.

        I’ve been wanting to explore more of California for a while now, but work and life have kept me pretty local. I’ll have to carve out some time.

        I’m curious about your musical side.

        When you’re helping David with his videos, how do you explore the music? Is it something you already hear in your head, or does it slowly develop as you’re working on it?

      9. I hope you love Cannery Row as much as I do. John Steinbeck has touched my heart with that book, as it reminds me of where I live right now. The same kind of vignettes, in a whole new era.
        Interesting question about my music. Sometimes, I hear the melody line first. This is the most difficult way to compose. I heard a man complain to David about a job he was doing, and the way his voice went up the scale gave me an idea. I ran and wrote it down. Then, I returned to the conversation, and got the next verse.
        Often, David will use a complete symphony of mine. Sometimes, he’ll create a scene, and I write something to match that scene. We’re constantly changing positions on who starts first. It’s a fascinating process. The worst part is having to hear my music over and over again. I actually start disliking it. Then, I never want to hear it again. It will take about 3 months after he completes the video before I’ll listen to the audio again.
        I read something from your first blog. It had a drawing of yours on the top of it that blew my mind. The sharpness of it. The lines. The shadows. The precision. I looked at it several times. I seemed to enter the picture. Fascinating.

      10. Thank you.

        Really, thank you for taking the time to write all of that.

        I love the image of the melody coming from the outside world. Someone was simply complaining, but you heard the register of his voice and connected the dots into something musical. I find that fascinating.

        It makes me wonder what other things we walk past every day that could become something if we just paid attention.

        I’m curious… what kind of music do you find yourself listening to these days?

      11. Sorry for the long responses. I like Arkenstone’s music.

      12. Thank you.

        And please don’t apologize for the long responses. I actually enjoy them. If it takes more words to get your ideas across, I’m happy to read a little longer.

        I loved the image of the melody coming from the outside world. Someone was simply complaining, but you heard the register of his voice and connected the dots into music. I find that fascinating.

        It made me wonder…

        Is everyday life one of your biggest artistic inspirations?

        And if you could experience one thing for the very first time again—anything at all—what would it be?

      13. My husband and I have theorized that we agreed to coming to this planet, in some type of “pre-life agreement.” I’d like to experience that again, if it were true. Because this time? I’d say “no.” Very loudly, I imagine. Too many people playing games with each others heads. Too many con men taking advantage of people. This place is a sham, and you probably know it. The difference between me and “other people” is that I haven’t become just-like-everyone-else. I don’t fit in. And, to me? That’s a blessing.

      14. I found your answer fascinating.

        I can understand why you would say no. There are days I understand that feeling too. But I also wonder about the things I would miss—the first note of a song, sitting in a movie theater, loving someone, being loved, or simply feeling deeply moved by another human being. Those experiences make me pause before I’d answer no.

        If you haven’t seen it, I think you might enjoy Meet Joe Black. It explores life, love, time, and what makes being alive meaningful in a way that has stayed with me for years. It doesn’t try to answer every question, but it asks some beautiful ones.

      15. Even though I’ve shared with you that I’m a musician and artist, there’s a bit more to what I do here. You’d understand if I told you.

      16. Now you’ve made me curious. If you’re comfortable sharing, I’d genuinely like to hear more about what you do.

      17. I’d like to hear more about what you do…

      18. I wake up every morning at 6:00 a.m. to write and brew coffee. It seems to be the only time of day without noise.

        I’ve dealt with procrastination for many years until recently. So I started writing early every morning, and somewhere along the way I fell in love with it. It’s made me more aware of how I think and how I observe the world.

        I still don’t believe I’m a writer.

        I think I’m just someone trying to understand life a little better.

        The rest of my day is pretty different. Since 2016 I’ve been delivering plastic bags, and later paper bags too, after California started transitioning away from plastic. I originally worked with my dad, but about two years ago I went out on my own.

        I’m supposed to have Tuesdays off…

        😂

        That almost never happens.

        I’ll get random calls throughout the day, so it usually turns into working seven days a week.

        Between deliveries, whenever I find ten minutes or thirty minutes, I draw.

        So I guess my life is coffee, writing, deliveries, drawing… and then doing it all again the next morning.

      19. You have seen a lot. Have you ever written about some of the most fascinating things you’ve seen on your journeys around LA? By the way, our email address is connected to these comments. If you want to email me, and send pics of LA, your art, etc, that would be great. I’d respond with the same. Not LA, of course.

      20. I think art is tricky in one way. If you want it to be commercial, you eventually have to ask yourself: is that really you? If it isn’t, then it can start feeling like you’re no longer making art for yourself.

        But then there is the other side.

        You enjoy what you do. It gives you something. Maybe it isn’t mainstream. Maybe only a small group of people connect with it. But they connect with it because it’s yours.

        For me, being an artist doesn’t require an audience.

        It starts with a simple question:

        Does creating give you something?

        Does it make you feel alive?

        If so, then yes, you’re an artist in the simplest sense.

        Creating is fun.

      21. I was a professional musician for most of my life. The audience’s approval was required.
        As far as my art – I couldn’t care less what people think. When I share it, it’s in hopes that someone else might get inspired. And, give them a little bit of freedom. I taught in the prison system for awhile. I taught art. It gave them freedom – for about two hours a week.

      22. Freedom. Beautiful.

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