Frustration: about making things, about my independence, about my home
I realized recently that I haven't been doing much in the way of making things. There's been no jewelry-making, no scrapbooking, no ceramic painting or drawing. I did make some notecards on Zazzle, but that's not a hands-on sort of thing. I have not been being much of an artist at all this year. And lately, it's been bothering me. A lot.
Some of it, I chalk up to living with a demanding, overbearing kitten who gets into everything. Some of it I attribute to living with the overwhelming clutter I've had such a hard time dealing with. Some of it is a result of my needing to spend more time planning and taking mass transit. I just haven't had the focus and concentration to deal with stuff. And I feel like my ability to manage my beading and crafting supplies has just gotten away from me. It all sits in that corner of my main floor, piled up, disorganized, in a spot that I don't want to work in. It's all set up wrong for me. It's uncomfortable. It's crazy-making. I don't have a place in this house that is perfect and comfortable for doing this work anymore.
Tonight I got a ZipCar and took a class at Fusion Beads in using ICE resin--that clear plastic stuff that you pour into a bezel over a picture or over charms that sets and protects them. I've seen pendants made with this stuff for several years and have been curious about trying it. I went to the class tonight and took my stash of gears and clockworks, and actually completed a really sweet, steampunky pendant. (It had to stay at the shop to cure; I have to pick it up later this week.) I had a great time.
Toward the beginning of the class, I wasn't so sure about this technique, thinking that it would require more patience than I may have. After having created the pendant, I realized that I could totally do it at home, and that patience wasn't really the issue. The issue was Zeke and Sophie, and their getting into my face when I'm trying to focus and work. The issue was having a place in my home that I felt comfortable working.
I really want to be an artist again. I want to make pretty things, my own things, and I don't want to be harassed while I do the work. I want a place to do the work that is comfortable and set up just right for me. I don't want anyone to tell me how they think my home should be set up or where I should put things (and somehow, a lot of people in my life feel quite comfortable telling me what's wrong with my home).
I'm just so frustrated.
And I miss having a car.
Some of it, I chalk up to living with a demanding, overbearing kitten who gets into everything. Some of it I attribute to living with the overwhelming clutter I've had such a hard time dealing with. Some of it is a result of my needing to spend more time planning and taking mass transit. I just haven't had the focus and concentration to deal with stuff. And I feel like my ability to manage my beading and crafting supplies has just gotten away from me. It all sits in that corner of my main floor, piled up, disorganized, in a spot that I don't want to work in. It's all set up wrong for me. It's uncomfortable. It's crazy-making. I don't have a place in this house that is perfect and comfortable for doing this work anymore.
Tonight I got a ZipCar and took a class at Fusion Beads in using ICE resin--that clear plastic stuff that you pour into a bezel over a picture or over charms that sets and protects them. I've seen pendants made with this stuff for several years and have been curious about trying it. I went to the class tonight and took my stash of gears and clockworks, and actually completed a really sweet, steampunky pendant. (It had to stay at the shop to cure; I have to pick it up later this week.) I had a great time.
Toward the beginning of the class, I wasn't so sure about this technique, thinking that it would require more patience than I may have. After having created the pendant, I realized that I could totally do it at home, and that patience wasn't really the issue. The issue was Zeke and Sophie, and their getting into my face when I'm trying to focus and work. The issue was having a place in my home that I felt comfortable working.
I really want to be an artist again. I want to make pretty things, my own things, and I don't want to be harassed while I do the work. I want a place to do the work that is comfortable and set up just right for me. I don't want anyone to tell me how they think my home should be set up or where I should put things (and somehow, a lot of people in my life feel quite comfortable telling me what's wrong with my home).
I'm just so frustrated.
And I miss having a car.