I could make that!


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?

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