Ebb and Flow
(30 of 50)
First of all, unless I do three entries a day, I am not going to get to 50 by next Sunday, which IS MAH BIRFDAY!!!! yay! yay! I’m not mad enough to try that, or think that it would be worth reading. But I may continue with daily entries until I indeed do have 50.
Secondly, I haven’t exactly been delving into the Deep Stuff. This birthday so far hasn’t seemed to be as momentous as 40 was. 30 was pleasant and rather sad. I was desperately unhappy at 30, and the day was made worse by an unwelcome celebration at work, if I remember correctly. In fact, it is rather funny (both in a ha-ha way and in a peculiar way) that other people assign so much meaning to one’s birthday even when you don’t. 50 is a number. When you are not yet fifty, it seems impossibly OLD. But days from 50, I feel like I’m truly in the middle of something. Not old. In the middle. Busy. Occupied. Booked up.
My creativity has been dampened this week. I’ve felt it sort of lying there in a wet little puddle in the corner, occasionally whimpering and sighing, “Oh please, let’s do something with paint. Or fabric. Yes, with fabric.” And then it slumps down again, just wistful and Edwardian and all want and no have.
I know that by directing some energy over toward that corner, that things will start to flow again. I know that ideas and experiments will be there when I am ready. During our recent trip to see the Prince Caspian movie in the Narnia Chronicles, I found myself drifting off the storyline (some would argue, “what storyline?”) and noticing the clothes. I wanted to remember how the clothes were constructed so I could make myself some cool period clothes, and my son a puffy shirt that looks very masculine and royal. I also have decided to make a mask like the helmets that the Telmarines wore (think Spaniard conquistadors).
The flow is there, when I want to release it. For writing, it’s much much easier, both because the medium is so simple (word processor, blog, keyboard - just start putting words down) and because it’s my preferred and oldest practice. But I also know that when I open some Sculpey, sit down with scissors and cloth, or pick up knitting, the same process is there. With some variations, but it’s there for me when I seek it. That’s one very very nice thing about 50. My creative process is a known quantity, an ever-evolving entity that I’m smack in the middle of.
For you, gentle reader, think today of ebb and flow. How would you map your process? Start in the middle with a work in progress. If you unravel time, where was the inspiration for that item? where were the ebbs and where is the flow? Did you find a flow, or was there something in the way?
It’s Sunday, and for me, I hope it rains because that will be loads of quiet “boring” time inside with books, fabric, yarn and ideas. (The border collie disagrees with me. She must go RUN!)