Some people go to church for inspiration. Others read self-help books. Some even do drugs to tap into their creative side. Me? I go to craft blogs. I can't help myself and I think that maybe I need a twelve-step program to deal with my addiction. But let me tell you... When it's morning time and I'm sitting on the couch in my pj's trying to get motivated for the day ahead, nothing gets me moving like a good craft blog (or twelve).
I've decided that when I grow up, I want to be a professional crafter. When I read these amazing women's sites I wonder how they learned the skills that they have so obviously mastered. I confess, the only class that I ever failed in school was Home Ec. Actually, I failed P.E., too, but who needs P.E.? Home Ec on the other hand would have been a good class to pay attention during. When I was taking the class way back in 7th grade, I was just plain angry that I didn't have a choice in the matter. I was a feminist at age 12. How was it fair that I was forced to learn the various shapes that kitchens are laid out in? Why did I need to know the difference between a blender and a chopper or how to sew in a zipper? As a young radical I absolutely refused to care about such things. I was never planning on getting married or having children and would never need such skills if I was going to run a high powered fortune 500 company. So the Home Ec class was the one blemish on my otherwise untarnished record. I managed to graduate with honors in spite of the whole ugly experience.
This is why I find it so ironic that here I am, a 30 year old married woman desperately seeking children. I've blown off Corporate America after having navigated through it for 10 years. Now all I want to do is cook and sew. What the hell happened to me????? But it's true, and now I'm as addicted to craft blogs as some business women are addicted to uppers to get them through the 12 hour work day. I need my craft crack in order to get moving each day. I crave the inspiration that I receive from perusing these sites and secretly pray for the creative inspiration that these women have been blessed with. Where do I find this? How can I get it? Did they sell their souls to the devil in exchange for endless craftiness? Because I'll do it!
Last night Bruno and I went to a gallery opening and we ran into one of his professors. She's one of his favorite teachers as well as one of his biggest proponents and it was nice to finally meet her. When we were introducing ourselves to each other she asked me if I was also a visual artist. What a strange question. It took me by surprise and I was momentarily without words. Am I a visual artist? Well, I like to make crafty stuff. Does that count? Probably not. So, I said no, I'm a writer. Then she asked me if it was a hobby. I was actually happy to say that, no, it was a career. But I really wanted to say that I was an artist. Funny how that works, huh? All I ever wanted to be was a writer (even though I had that whole high powered executive ambition, too) and now I am one. Now all I want to be is an artist. I'm always chasing after that carrot that is just out my reach. Maybe that's my inspiration.
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