I always think about how much I'd like to write... but I never write.
i think about how I want to draw, or paint... and I never do.
Instead, with my time, I am knitting socks or small plush animals that the world is utterly inundated with right now. In my head I have plans for an entire graphic novel, just waiting to go, but never even set pen to paper for fear of failure or messing up. And this whole time I am sitting here pondering the loss of feeling in the fingertips of my left hand with a disconnected curiosity, brushing it off as a stiff shoulder and trapezius, which I've encountered before.
This entire life seems to be one in which I think about hundreds of creative things, but don't have the faith in myself to ever do. I've composed music and trembled in front of the instrument that was supposed to play it, completely stopped dead by my lack of skill in playing it. I've come up with worlds and never set them to paper, hesitating just long enough for the details to be lost, and then I throw it all to the side and swear at myself time and again for being so timid.
I don't know why this happens, but it does. Every day poems pop in to my head. I think of things to draw that I know I don't have the skill for yet, but that beg me to be put to paper. I send them away unsatisfied, instead, blaming my lack of practice for it all.
How the hell does one get better if not by risk and practice? Why have I been so averse to these things? I enjoy things when I sit down to work with them, when there's no risk and I'm simply doing it for fun. But when it has a purpose, suddenly there is so much more import on the even that I never pick up the pen, or the paintbrush. Or the instrument.
I suspect I might be really good at violin if I ever took lessons, but I'm too scared to do anything more than tune it up and swear at it when the pegs slip before I can play 2 bars. It's just this theme that keeps recurring in everything I do.
Bob has said that most times people don't bother to dwell on such things very deeply, being that they have children and a mortgage to worry about. They're doing what they need to to be sure that the kids are fed, clothed, and can afford football uniforms and clarinet reeds. Their minds are occupied with just living and don't have this crisis of confidence. Makes sense to me, really. Most people are so busy with the status quo that stepping outside is too much of a hassle and a risk. Here I am whining about it and how much I'd rather buck it.... and no kids.
I'm not saying I want kids. Boy do I really not want kids yet. "Not ready for child rearing" is a tattoo I could probably aptly get right now. So I can allow myself this conceit of pondering whether existence is going to continue to be me not making more.... stuff.
It's the act of creation that I tend to enjoy, when it happens and when it goes well. Then seeing others make use of it following on that act, that's what I enjoy a lot.
So... with all of this being spewed out on to the page, I have now vowed to live outside my comfort zone more often in the future. It's the only way to grow, and the only way to figure out exactly how much i can do and how well I might eventually do it. And if nothing else, I'll gain knowledge from the attempt. Aside from making myself really uncomfortable, I don't see a downside. This is my resolution for the time being.
On to the happy!
Valentine's Day was sweet. Flowers were delivered for me in the AM, a beautiful bouquet of a dozen roses. Bob had told me previously that he was intending to take the money not lavished on me for THIS year's Valentine's Day and put it in the account for Japan. I am more than happy with this, because last year was total overkill in terms of what we did. It was wonderful, don't get me wrong. To have something that special happen just once is wonderful. But having it every year would ruin the specialness of it, I think. I'd rather have more fun on the upcoming epic journey than more sparkley things. The memories will be as sweet.
We went to lunch at the Blue Cafe, which has some wonderful sandwiches with unusual combinations. Then we wandered next door to the organic foods market to grab a few things, and when it turned out that they didn't have tapioca pearls, we scampered over to the asian market and found what are called "boba" pearls, the type you put in bubble teas. We brought home a pack, much to my excitement. We also brought home some different types of snack food to try out.
Then came our first shot at cooking pho noodle soup (which turned out AWESOME), and that was followed up with some of the bubble tea, thai iced tea style. Reeeeally good stuff, and very filling. All in all an enjoyable evening.
I finally got to post some pictures of what I've been doing to my ravelry profile, and uploaded a bunch of my projects to deviantArt, including my little Letterkeepers idea that's been bouncing around in my head. For some reason posting the image of them made it seem harder to back out of the idea... so going with the whole need to be outside my comfort zone, I did it.
The living room table is lousy with my craft projects.
What you can't see is the java coding book and the book on making sox off to the side, along with 2 other skeins of yarn, a cat brush, and the TV remote. Oh, and Xbox and PS3 controllers. It's amazing the woodgrain is still visible after the laptop gets set down. But I'm enjoying it. And for the record, 3 out of 4 of those projects are socks, the 4th is a little amigurumi Love Bug that just didn't get done in time for the 14th. Ahh well, we shall see what comes of it.
I'm so tired my eyes hurt. Going to go to bed now. I feel really accomplished right now. I haven't in a while, so this is a good feeling.
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