Monday, April 11, 2011

I've been having a rough few months, but now have a Plan. The Plan makes me feel much better; that combined with drinking more water, getting more exercise, and finding some joy in my dance has led me to be in a better mood. Today, anyhow. I'll be realistic enough to say, "We'll see how tomorrow goes."

I also slept really well last night. Not more sleep, just better sleep.

The problem that began ruminations of the Plan: I work from home. I make stuff. Sometimes it's stuff to sell online, or locally, and sometimes it's costuming stuff for the Renaissance Faire I work at (for myself or other people). Lately I've felt like I can't get anything finished. I'll start a project and inevitably find something else that needs doing. Like playing video games with my daughter. I'd love to blame all my inaction on my kids and husband, but while they play a role I know the brunt of my issue comes from me not feeling like my work is Work.

Work is something you do and are paid for. This is Work, even when it's fun.

So I've felt not only frustrated at my inability to finish things (or even start things), but also have felt incredibly stunted, creatively. I started a new sketchpad and it's already filling up with ideas for things I can't imagine starting yet. I can't find the supplies, don't have the time to spare, feel it's frivolous, etc. So I'm a big wad of creative impotency right now, and that's not how I need and want to be.

Thus the Plan. The Plan was my mom's idea. She's brilliant. I love her.

My father owns a house about 20 minutes from me. It's in the city I grew up in. Right now it's uninhabited, with burst pipes and a faulty furnace. And it's EMPTY.

Okay, not empty, but it's fairly spacious, with some furniture in it (a couch, a dining room table, stools in the kitchen). There's electricty, a faucet in the basement that still works, a fridge and coffee pot and, maybe most importantly, it's a building that is not my house. It is a place to do Work.

So sometime in the next few weeks, I'll be moving my studio over there. Right now my "studio" is my basement/kitchen/dining room, where I have fabric, beads, paint, glitter, bits and bobs, glue, tools, etc. Before I do anything I have to organize my supplies, list out my projects, and figure out what I'll need over there.

Deciding what to take is the trickiest part. I make things as a hobby, too, and hate the idea of sitting up at night, husband and kids asleep, and having the sudden urge to put glitter on my shoes and not having any. Then again, this might be a good thing. I have hobbies other than making stuff-- I dance, do watercolor paintings, play the ukulele on a very beginner level. So if I'm not tempted by my stockpile of glitter, maybe I'll become a bit more rounded, hobby-wise? But then again, I imagine being like a tradesman, coming home with my toolbox of things I don't want to be without, only instead of hammers and screwdrivers my toolbox would contain glitter, a hot glue gun and some good scissors. Heh. We'll see how this goes, but this morning I woke up and didn't feel crippled by my creativity. And that's a Good Thing.

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