I could make that!

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if there is one phrase in the English language that has gotten me into more trouble than any other, it is “i could make that.” You have to say it in a variety of tones of voice, to get my meaning…say it scoffingly, and that is me standing in gift shop in front of a clever picture frame, or a poorly executed gift idea…say it with regret and that is me when I see someone making a million dollars with an idea that has played with the edges of my mind, say it with excitement, and that is me in the midst of a creative surge, where everywhere I turn is a seed of an idea that I could make–except I could make it better

This phrase is the impetus for me scouring the internet and local area for materials and supplies to make whatever has fleetingly caught my attention…my storeroom filled with crates of assorted papers, stamps, jewelry findings, beads, feathers, leather, glass scraps, canvas, paints of all kinds, wax, glues, and fabrics…oh, and dyes, wool roving, yarns, a variety of knitting needles, and a spinning wheel…and this doesn’t even begin to list everything in my clay studio. Yes, I have an addiction…i love raw materials…

trouble…how could this be trouble?, you ask…it sounds very exciting to be in the midst of creative energy, on the brink of new discovery and all of that…and it is, but…well, have you ever woke up wearing someone else’s cowboy hat? stepping on shards of memory, on your way to the bathroom, pieces of just how much fun you had the night before, lighting up your brain like so many flashbulbs? …and in the light of day, its …well, it doesn’t live up to how great it was going to be when you started?…in fact, its a bit embarrassing?(strictly a rhetorical question…put your hands down)

“I could make that” is a bit like that…it starts out with such good intention, like the time I decided to make Tasha’s prom dress…and ends up abandoned on the table, with me looking back at it with a stranger’s eyes…”what a mess! who did that!?” Or the time just recently, when I decided Nina and I should make Tasha’s graduation present – at 10:30 pm the night before graduation, there we were, sprawled on my kitchen floor, hammering letter stamps into metal blanks for a necklace.

But lest you think that ALL my endeavors end in disaster, I will say that a good many of them turn out well! Because really what fun is life, if you are afraid to try something you might fail at?

It’s called being innovative

So just had to show you, now that I am here and have a moment. These are pictures before I got my stuff moved…so just imagine that there are about a hundred boxes and bags in each picture, stacked hither and yon and that’s where I am.

I have to thank Tasha, my amazing co-mover, my partner in crime 🙂 I found out on Friday that I could get movers for furniture on Saturday (yes, the next day!!), so Tasha and I were like squirrels getting ready for winter….packing boxes, moving all the furniture out into the dining room, taking things apart. I moved from a 2nd floor apt to a house and I elected to have the movers do just the furniture. So this meant there were all of these boxes that one had to carry out the door of the apartment, down a long hallway, to the elevator, out of the elevator, out 2 sets of doors, down a long sidewalk and pack into my car…or a crazy person might just think that you could park outside the apartment building, in front of your balcony and…well, drop, pitch or otherwise lower said items to the ground, avoiding much of the hauling and carrying of said items…and it worked quite well, I must say.

Off to clean the apartment, enjoy your day!

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Journaling magic

We are all used to operating in the conscious realm…even when we feel semi-conscious, like before that first cup of coffee, or when we are on overload because of a particularly difficult day, we still operate in the conscious realm…we ask and answer questions that are related to the world around us, we deal with issues that present themselves, we talk to the people in our path.  And as a general rule, most of us are fairly convinced that whatever answers we need to life’s changing situations will be found, if we just slow down and think it thru.

In the Artist’s Way, one of my all time favorite books, Julia Cameron requires that the artist/writer/reader do “morning pages”.  Each morning she asks that you write 3 pages.  Three pages of whatever you want to write. It can be the same word over and over (write, write, write, write, write…), it can be a string of unrelated thoughts (my cat doesn’t like her dry food, lots of TV channels have only music, hope it doesn’t snow, why is there dog hair in my cereal?…), it can be your grocery list, or your daily to-do list, it can be the next chapter of your upcoming novel.  She says the important thing is not content, but the act of writing. The writing unhinges something beneath your conscious thought that allows creativity to come to the surface.

Just the other morning,  I was wrestling with a difficult issue, had been wrestling with this issue…for months.  Could not seem to come up with the answer that filled the void in my soul, yet i knew that the status quo was not going to work.  I had been thinking it thru, making lists, doing all sorts of cognitive things seeking an answer. That morning I had woken up outrageously early, too early, and knowing i couldn’t go back to sleep – i’m like that, once i wake up in the night, no matter the time, i’m up- i decided to journal.

At first, the words were dull, and forced…and they had no connection to what was realistic, only what seemed important at 3am…whether cornflakes were a good option for breakfast, if it would be warm out today, my t0-do list for work…Of course, it wasn’t long before my wrestling partner surfaced in my journal.  I ranted, and I raved…i cussed and I speculated…i bemoaned and I belittled…and about 3 pages in, like the gold of a sunrise that wasn’t there, and then it was…so glaringly obvious, i almost cried.

my answer had surfaced…

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