In a building sense, little things become big things. Bricks for instance, look tiny next to a 2 story house, but that house is built out of bricks.
Life, too, is built up of little things. Moments we share with people we love. Imprinted memories we have. Those special connections we make that sometimes seem incomprehensible...sometimes we don't even know that it's going to be the "thing" that sticks out for us.
In my mind's eye right now I'm trying to look at the positive things about my work and my choice to be brave and do the artist thing (that's what everyone is telling me, that I'm being brave...and considering how terrified I am, I'm getting it...being brave is really scary stuff!)...
...and this is where it gets tricky because I don't want to be negative on my blog ever, but man...there have been a lot of little things here that have piled up to make me into one miserable person. It was a major component of my decision to do the artist thing...(though really I don't think I had much choice in the matter...it was becoming increasingly evident to me what my path was: I just had to step on it).
I'm finding when I go home at night this week that I'm more excited about things that I've always been excited about until recently. I want to read books. I want to play with the cats. I want to stay up all night and create and play. I'm cracking jokes, being silly, and encouraging people around me to play. I even had a full conversation with myself yesterday morning.
I'm such a huge believer in play and how it helps us be more creative and energetic. I totally think we need recess at work and exercises or games or something fun to do to distract our minds from the toil that it gets into.
...and I've been in the wrong environment. Play is not appreciated nor respected in my office and I have become more and more unhappy as I've had to shut out that instinct in me to ENJOY myself in the things that I do--and to relax with a little silliness before getting back to the seriousness.
In discussing all my professional life with David recently he's said over and over again that I'm really just not the personality that fits in well with an office environment where I'm expected to do the same thing everyday.
And I get it and I can't wait until I get into my studio environment and can play.
I'm going to color by the way. Make pictures with pencils and markers. I'm excited.
I started to crochet a shawl from lace weight yarn. I thought it would be nice to take to London next week. It might--it's tiny and will hardly take any room in the suitcase--but it's definitely NOT something to do on the plan, so now I have to figure that out. I'm thinking it'll probably be socks, but we shall see.
Here is the shawl...it's pretty...and it took me a few tries to get it right, but now it's easy peasy. But I do want to say that doing 386 single crochet foundation chains is time consuming...
Daddy's story: Everyday when my dad got home from work he would go out and feed the cows. I got to go with him when I was younger and it was always fun throwing the hay around for the cows to eat. He would let me ride in the trailer sometimes and I think he hit every hole in the ground on purpose to hear me holler...he liked hearing us holler!