Art

I sit on Tim's side of the bed when he's gone because from the head of the bed, he has a perfect view out the bedroom door to the stairwell where the three uppermost birds soar. It pleases me to see the image I love so dearly in a more visible place than my back, and I love that I was able to paint them in my stairs.

I've decided to consider myself an artist.

My whole life, I have never given myself credit for being an artist because I've always been surrounded by real artists. What I do has never seemed to qualify, is never something that I can frame and hang--as though that's the only qualifier art needs.

But I finally gave myself credit for looking at the world as an artist. Our house is slowly getting filled with things that might prompt a sensible realtor would remind us to consider resale values, but our thick wooden back door is sturdy enough to withstand 56 holes that I put in when I created an installation with old keys.

My art is never going to change the world, or even attract much notice from anyone besides myself, and that's ok with me. I am recharged by the buzz of excitement new ideas give me, and the sense of satisfaction and peace that creation brings.

I need more of those feelings in my life, as work is becoming an increasing black hole where peace, hope, and optimism go to die.

I've decided to give myself the goal of doing one creative thing a day, to give myself something to think about and look forward to when work makes me despair.

My next project is to replace all the ceiling fan pulls (which are currently round medallions at the end of each chain that advertise the fan brand) with beads made out of Sculpey. Next up, I am going to make a futon cover out of oatmeal-colored muslin for the library. After that, I'm going to write a story or two for This I Believe. My long-term goal is to learn how to use audio-editing software and write some podcasts.

It's good to have projects to look forward to. Here's to hope, optimism, and peace!