Each day when I wake up it's like waking up to a monster.
This beast in front of me that I must conquer.
It's size is overwhelming, it's complexity perplexing and it's depth is monumental.
What beast do I speak of?
I am an artist first and foremost. I think, eat and breathe art.
If I must do something I want to put all of me into it.
It MUST be creative.
I don't think I am capable of doing anything without throwing a touch of color, of design, MY idea of style into it. I realize that that in itself makes life more complicated, but I never said I was simple.
I am one of those people who can get lost in intricacy.
I love to delve deep into the making of EVERYTHING. Some of my favorite things to do are the most complicated, tiny, intricate things that a person could imagine. Mastering something like that is more satisfying than anything else I can think of.
So possibly, you can imagine what a monster my house is.
It is wonderful with it's little foibles, its funky little corners and interesting elements.
It is also a mess, at almost every turn there is something else that needs fixing, cleaning, patching, building. This is not creativity, this is not design. This is hard work and simple construction.
The artist in me feels hampered.
Some days I dream of what this house will be when we are finished, All the rough spots smoothed, the broken replaced and everything streamlined into a home.
Then I think, I can go back to doing my art full time!
I wonder though how true that would be. I have found in my life that my art shines brightest when I am in the middle of intense emotion. I don't care if I am sad or mad or deeply head over heels in love, that is when it chooses to shine. Will having my house all nice and bright and fixed bring about those strong emotions? I doubt it. I think that maybe that would be the time when my art would be it's dullest.
And I guess that is where my deepest frustration lies right now. On the one hand my time is needed here, making my house a home and on the other my time is right to make my art, to work now when my passion runs so deep.
The excitement of living in this place, of making something new...of creating this thing, this home is rejuvenating. It is a strong and powerful emotion, one that could make much art. But who has time for art when the kitchen needs organized? The garden needs planning and oops, Iota made another mess in the front yard.
Who can make art in chaos like this anyway?
My studio is overran with things that don't belong there...and too cold to work in anyway. There are not enough hours in the day to do both what I want and what I need.
So right now to survive, I try to see the art in little things. Did I just cut out a small horde of little labels to put on my spice jars? Yes...yes I really did.
Is it silly? Oh that is truly is.
Was it necessary? As necessary as the air I breathe.
It might not seem like much to most but it is my little mark here. It is my art of the moment, little as it may be.