Somehow I misplaced my creativity. My ability to play with art. Or maybe the sun melted it out of me. Regardless of how it happened, it is long gone now. Even my doodling feels too controlled and contrived. I can admit it now. It used to be the heat that kept me out of my art room but now it is fear. Fear of the blank page. Fear that I've lost it for good. Fear that I couldn't produce anything if I tried. Fear that I'll always feel this way. Thankfully, the door is still unlocked but when I walk in, I can't find myself there (and I certainly can't lose myself there either) and have no idea what I'm doing. Nothing excites me. Nothing even interests me. It might as well be someone else's room.
In 2 days we are set to close on our new house. It's true, part of my hesitation to jump into my art comes from knowing we'll only be in this space a while longer so what's the point of dragging out a bunch of stuff that I'll only have to pack away soon? Too, I keep thinking about the great studio in our new house--so much potential, and that still excites me--but then I think about the packing and unpacking that awaits me again and I'm exhausted. Too exhausted to try and squeeze out a few measly drops of creative energy.
It used to be so easy. I didn't even have to try. Now that I've neglected my "real art" or whatever you want to call it for so long, it's hard. Too hard. It gives me a headache just thinking about it--I'm not exaggerating. What happened to me and how could I have just let it happen?? I know, this is just the natural ebb and flow of creativity and I just need to push through the resistance. But I don't feel like it. I know, I know, I've been here before and I'll get through it just like I did then. But I don't want to work at it. I want it to be easy again. So I sit here and whine.
Maybe I shouldn't have tried to compose this post when I do have a raging headache, I'm sweating in my own house and it's only going to get worse, and all I want to do is go back to bed. But then maybe there's someone out there who can totally relate. Or maybe there's still someone out there who thinks I have it all together and probably never go through days like this. Ha! Guess I showed you.
Lest you worry too much, I'm still doing creative things. I'm going through the motions. I'm almost finish with Maisey's blanket. Just have the edging to go and it's my favorite part. I'm doodling from time to time, controlled and contrived though it seems. I made the most amazing freezer jam last week and can't wait to make more. Last Wednesday I spent the afternoon making jewelry with friends. I even spent an hour a few nights ago working on those still undone last few pages in my Remains of the Day journal. But my art soul remains empty. I even bought a new art book that managed to excite me for a few minutes but just depresses me now. Even without opening, it mocks me. So I burried it under the rest of the books I've been hiding in lately. I won't let it see what's become of me.



