A Little Imagination and a Pile of Junk

connecting

I've been blogging for six years now. Six years! Almost as long as I've known that blogging even existed. As soon as I saw my first artist and craft blogs I knew that was what I wanted to do. To share my creations and creative passions with others who would share theirs with me. A community of inspiration. Once I realized you were out there, I knew I had to connect with you and I've made so many wonderful friends because I took that leap of faith. That you'd get me. And like me. And like what I was doing. And you did! And hardest of all, it gave me the confidence to take an even bigger leap of sharing my art with the people in my everyday life. Because until you let me know I wasn't alone and I wasn't such an odd bird after all (alright, maybe I still am, but it's okay!), I was too afraid to share and kept that most important part of myself locked up in one little room, but now that I've spread my wings and, as my husband says, let my freak flag fly my life is so much richer and more wonderful than I could have ever imagined.

So, six years! Wow. I even impress myself. One of the best things about blogging is being able to look back at my creative struggles and accomplishments. I've been so burdened lately because of my lack of motivation that I decided to look back at other summers to see if my lack of productivity was a seasonal thing. It turns out I was bitching and moaning about the same damn things last summer, which bothers me because I'd like to think of myself as having grown a bit in the last year but also gives me some hope that this too shall pass and I will be happy and productive again. And the last thing I need to do is worry about it. Plus, I realized that I naturally gravitate toward more easy going creative works in the summer months like knitting or crochet, doodling and reading. I'm beginning to see that it's all part of the creative cycle. A time of refueling maybe before the next creative growth spurt. Makes sense to me. Maybe I need to embroider that on a pillow or something just to remind me when the voices start accusing again.

It also helps to remember the times when I was productive, not so very long ago. So, here are a few journal pages from earlier this summer. Believe it or not, I'm so behind in blogging that I probably have a few months worth of posts I haven't gotten around to sharing yet. I guess procrastination can be a good thing.

 

 

 

 

 

   

 

 

 

 

the plan, or how to kill the voices before they kill you

I didn't mean to be away so long but the summer's slipping away and I have lots of nothing much still left to do. I've been fighting it because there's a loud and obnoxious voice in my head that thinks I should be doing something important or valuable or productive every minute of the day, even though in actuality I don't; I can't live by my own rules. My internal hall monitor and ubiquitous To Do lists frequently threaten to suffocate me so I just end up checking out with a nap or just staring into space hoping they can't find me there. It's exhausting, all this evasion. So I finally decided to face the threat full on and be a grown up for a change.

To give you an idea, these are just a few of Debra's arbitrary and exhausting rules for daily living:

1. Wasting time is the Unpardonable Sin. Every minute of wasted time must be redeemed by 40 minutes of productive time, the more painful the better, and even then, it still can't be forgiven.
2. Each day's To Do list shall include something miserable that I'd rather eat dirt than do or the entire day = Wasted.
3. As an artist, I should always be working toward some tangible goal (blog fodder, finishing a project, developing painting skills, etc.) or I'm just wasting time.
4. I must finish every book I start no matter how ridiculous or boring or terrible it might be.
5. It is my job to faithfully scour the baseboards, empty the laundry baskets, and bake pies with any and all free time or I'm a sucky wife & mother.
6. I must be continuously engaging my children in playful and loving, intellectual or spiritually stimulating activities throughout the day or their brains will rot and they will grow up to despise me.
7. Every item from my copious To Do lists must be checked off daily.
8. Anything done while sitting down is a complete waste of time and I must add 4 more exhausting things to my To Do list to make up for every 5 minutes wasted in such slothful sitting.
9. Knitting, crochet, sewing and all other crafty making is merely a distraction from my real art and is, therefore, a complete waste of time.
10. All books or other reading materials must be self-edifying or at least something I can blog about later.
11. If I enjoy myself at any time during any mandatory activity, it automatically becomes null and void and I must redo it until it hurts no matter how long it takes and even then I only get 1 point for effort.

Anyone who knows me will quickly see that I do not live according to my own rules, but there they are. Accusing, mocking, tormenting me. Probably making me less productive with their stifling existence. They are my rules and you'd think I'd be able to amend them as I chose, but no. In reality, they own me. Am I alone in this craziness??

So, in an attempt to break the shackles of their domination--or at least rattle them a bit, and loudly!--I am declaring my freedom from them and will now set out the new list of acceptable activities that I will engage in--guilt free--for the rest of the summer. Ahem.

List of acceptable summer activities (baby steps):

1. Knitting and/or crochet that will never be finished and will spend the next 2 years in the UFO (un-finished objects) pile until I eventually get sick of looking at it and frog (unravel) it or throw it out.
2. Slow and repetitive hand sewing with pretty colors and no end in mind.
3. Rewatching endless stupid movies and episodes of The Cosby Show with the kids until my eyes want to pop out of my head.
4. Reading young adult novel series that I buy full price without waiting for them to go on sale or come out in paperback.
5. Journaling and blogging only when I feel like it and only to record something random or silly. (This one may be stretching it a bit.)
6. Taking 2 naps a day and staying up until 1 am doodling or listening to my favorite album endlessly on repeat.

I realize there's probably a happy medium somewhere between enjoyment and productivity, but this is my plan to conquer the summer-joy-stealer and I'm sticking to it. At least for a week. My goal--if I had one, but I don't--would be to land myself smack dab in the middle of Slothville and not budge until the drill seargant in my head gets so sick and frustrated she gives up all hope of changing me and leaves for brighter prospects. Then maybe I will be ready to approach the fall with a more balanced outlook. And actually get some things done. Shut up.

It's going to be a long week.

Oh, and since I may be a rule breaker but I can't bring myself to break the have-to-have-at-least-one-picture-in-every-blog-post rule, here are a few journal pages. But they're totally not in any discernible order--so there!

 

 

  

what i did on my summer vacation

I can't show you pictures of all the movies we've watched or the naps I've taken, but here's a few other things keeping me busy this summer.

Quick trips to the bookstore for vacation knitting projects...

 

And then over to the yarn shop for his and her yarns. Oh, look! It's right next to the new favorite cafe, might as well stop in...

 

Decadent lunch dates with freshly made macaroons and vanilla lemonade...

 

 

New wrap bracelets made from this fabulous tutorial...

 

 

School supplies popping up here and there = new notebooks & journals to fill with summer memories and dreams...

 

Throw in late night games of bananagrams, having my sweetie at home instead of at work, late afternoon rain showers, a little gardening and a lot of journaling and you have one amazing summer vacation.

naturally

Back home and slowly getting into the groove of life after vacation. It is slow going when you're simultaneously clinging tightly to every scrap of fleeting laziness, laughter, memory and fun. Sticky slow.