i found this blog online and hanna’s got a lot going on. i was enjoying so much of her and then i read that she does some creative project every day.
i’m going to be honest here, my thought was “oh please tell me WHO has time to be creative every day. maybe every week…”
and that’s when i knew. i knew that i have lost my way, that i have strayed from the person i was created to be, that i -an artist and writer- have somehow created a life that does not have space for being an artist and writer.
it also showed me just how much this recent funk has gotten into my thought patterns. i’ve gotten bogged down with the negative political words all around these past days (can that be over now please?), a random weird flooding incident that we’ll find out tomorrow if our insurance will cover the repairs, along with my common them of the frustrations and letdowns of organized religion. oh, and i work in an office and sometimes that seems a bit odd, being an artist and writer as i may have mentioned.
but then i realized that, yes indeed, i do something creative every day. maybe it’s not making a piece of art. maybe i don’t get paint under my nails much any more.
but yesterday i made grape juice. i mean, like, from scratch. 35 half-gallon jars worth (that are in tiny little ziplocs as concentrate at the moment, no i didn’t fill 35 half-gallon jars). the day before that i got to work on stories of community development at work, and arrange those words and pictures into appealing formats. the day before that i learned how to make a french stew, and…
and on it goes. life is creative, whether we realize it or not. perhaps some of my drudgery is an inability to see the forest for the trees, so to speak. to not take notice. to not relish in my creative moments. to not even realize them for what they are in the moment.
and, yes, perhaps i should take out those paints more often.