My creative space is in a state of disarray. Crochet project on hold. Collaging projects not started. Novel project not progressing.
Gifts treasured but unacknowledged. Prints to be framed. Receipts to be filed. Journals to be populated.
Piles and piles of books. Books not read. Books read but not recorded in my book diary of over ten years. My intention to list all the words my little 'un knows, and the letter I meant to write her on her first birthday, still refusing to travel from my brain to my neck to my right arm to my fingers, still subject to the tyranny of distance between my imagination and a piece of paper.
Andrea Scher asks: "How can you create what you most need to find?"
The Creative Beast asks: "How do you embody grace?"
I suspect the answer to these things is not dissimilar. I need a clearing, I need a focus. I need to create a space that nurtures my creative energy, that invites and celebrates its fragmentation (rather than remaining overwhelmed and deterred by it). I need some play.
A tangent, not unrelated:
I spent my little 'un's nap times yesterday clearing out my wardrobe, pulling out my Winter clothes, packing away my Summer gear, bagging up things that I haven't worn for a long time or just don't fit anymore. For once, I approached with task of what to hang in my wardrobe with the premise: What do I actually wear? Not what do I wish I could wear, or what do I think a girl like me should be wearing? But, among all these piles and piles of stuff, where are the small number of pieces I wear on high rotation, the overwhelming majority of the time?
I ended up with a small number of quite casual coordinates, purchased for their roominess but recently quite snug, all in dark muted colours. Colour, I thought, I need more colour.
So. Colour and play. Freedom to create and grow. Fun. What's missing is the fun.
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