(Thank you to Led Zeppelin (fav band!) for my aptly titled post, from, ironically enough, the song Thank You)
I have been feeling very “stuck” as of late. I feel this intense need to bring more creativity into my life – into my daily routine. I feel strongly that I am not meant to sit in a cubicle day-in and day-out. My best friend Kate, (whose beautiful blog is here) recently said that it is one thing to send our kids to daycare so that we can pursue a job that is fulfilling, but it feels so wrong to do so for a job that simply pays the bills. Ok, so I need a job right now so we can pay the bills. That is a reality.
Truth be told, I’d love to have MORE time with my babes every day rather than doing the damn thing and feeling no passion. I am feeling more and more of a strong need to start digging deeper.
I have accomplished a lot in my thirty some-odd (that’s a very accurate saying by the way!) years, and I have no regrets because I don’t believe in lamenting over such things. Besides the fact that it’s not as if I have faced any huge hurdles that have put a damper on my life. However, I have put a lot of work into big goals, such as graduating from college as a grown-up, with way more responsibilities – like a baby, and then another baby…and I yearn for still more babies, and even with all of that, or maybe especially because of that, I feel that I owe it to myself to make something of that piece of paper I so painstakingly earned.
This blog is a beginning. It is a creative outlet that I look forward to investing time and effort to. And it will get better – that is a promise.
But I want more. I want to go back to my roots.
When I was 18 and had started college (my first and failed go at it), I was going to major in art. Photography was my main interest, but I’ve got to admit I was a pretty good artist too. I need that in my life again.
I need a spark. Which will light a fire…
My summer to-do list is to find something interesting, beautiful and enlightening every day. If I am to be honest with myself, and make things happen for myself, I just need to live in every moment with attention and purpose, and think imaginatively.
SO… feeling inspired, I decided to do a craft with Red. Red is not particularly crafty. He loves the IDEA of crafting and creating, but when faced with (in this case) a pile of feathers, pipe cleaners, googly eyes, felt, scissors and glue, he doesn’t go at it with any certain intent. He kind of stares at it, then me, and asks what to do. So we just started cutting and gluing and I made a silly monster that ended up looking more like a rooster:
and he made this:
It’s an abstract, and I can appreciate that, though every time I picked it up it was falling apart.
Quick back story, I am forever jaded from an art experience in nursery school when we were told to make jack-o-lanterns and given a bunch of triangles and shapes that we were supposed to precisely glue to an orange circle and make a face. I, being the little spit fired redhead who refused to follow the rules (god, if THAT wasn’t foreshadowing at its best), decided to just keep gluing shapes any which way I pleased, and my conceptual jack-o-lantern was met with a look of disgrace by the teacher, who was from what I can recall, (and by my then four-year-old standards) an old bitty, asking me why I would do such a thing. Obviously I was a visionary genius way back when…but clearly misunderstood. (my apolgies for the run-on sentences…I just had to get that off my chest. Moving on…) So, because of this exprience, I would never question the originality that Red saw in his piece.
And then he said, “Lookit Mommy – it has Love on it” and although he was literally speaking of the puffy, glittery “LOVE” sticker he put on the felt monster, it struck me. I looked at it, took a picture and said to myself, “Yes, yes it does.”
So I guess point being, is that even in the things that don’t seem to have any specific creative sense at first, if I look hard enough, I will find it, or if not, I will make it, and in either case, whatever “it” turns out to be – it will be filled with love. Maybe I should go back to my four-year-old self, and consult with her about just how to make this happen.