Wednesday, February 4, 2015

February 4, 2015

It's rude to point.  
I was not inspired this morning  The boring ever-whiteness of winter was getting to me, and I'd been thinking about joining the circus.  The only thing stopping me was my utter lack of circus-related talents.  When it was time to go to the studio, I thought "Oh, what's the use?  Nothing good is going to happen, the way I feel."  But I couldn't think of anything better to do.  I told myself I could clean up something.  I could make jump rings or clasps .  And if my suspicions were right and I ended up sitting there and feeling lost, I could leave.  That's what it took to get me there.

A half hour after my inner motivational speech, I was scooting around my workspace on my comfy chair at a good clip.  (I have everything set up so I don't have to stand much.  I roll.)  I aged one thing and set it aside, drilled a part and fit it into a component, and selected beads for something else.  Before I knew it an hour had gone by and I had accomplished several worthwhile things.  What I did wasn't amazing, but it didn't have to be.  It was something, and that was more than I'd thought I was capable of.  

That's when it occurred to me that waiting for a time when I feel creative probably is a very silly thing to do.  There is never an hour in any day when, as a human being, I am not dealing with some kind of worry.  I have aches and pains and worries which are private and bothersome.   This is true of me, and it is true of you and every other human who ever lived.  Ergo, it is true of Leonardo and all those other famous guys.  Surely they worked through stomach upsets and disappointments.  They went to work when they had financial difficulties and they worked with a pulled leg muscle.  (To be fair, Leo was employed by the Pope and other rich men.  He couldn't say "You know what, yer highness?  Not so much today.") 

For me, the answer to not feeling motivated seems to be "just do it."  One foot in front of the other, baby steps, etc.  There is always something I can do.  For one thing, the scissors are forever somewhere they shouldn't be.  The trash needs to be emptied.  The vintage string drawer should be reorganized.  (I do have a drawer for vintage string.  I love the stuff.)   

It's also possible that when I least expect it something truly creative will happen, as if by magic.  I might paint my version of The Last Supper, or invent a flying machine.  

Here is a picture of my latest listing on Etsy.  It's called Nokkelring, and you can view it by clicking here.