I've not et meat enough lately.
I suppose this is one of those lucid moments of clarity that so get lost in the day to day state of things, like forgetting that if you use your brain that you can actually touch type on a qwerty keyboard… just not particularly well which is why I so don’t do it that often…arg digress and distraction gawd it’s not even like I can claim interruption yet!
There is a feeling that wells up; that becomes a driving force, that makes a brush flow fluently, a word spill effortlessly on to page, a tool smooth your clay… with sculpting it’s that feeling of having a presence at your shoulder whispering instruction to your ear…\
As an owner of a family you often find yourself at the sink, the clothes line or the school PFA meeting when the feeling takes you, and it swiftly passes on. Sadly it comes and leaves you feeling high and dry and bereft of inspiration when time finally presents itself. Occasionally the two, the feeling and the time, align and remind you of what you have achieved in the past, and leaves you somewhat wistful of what you could have achieved without the struggle. Often when you make advantage of the time, the feeling is no where in sight, but often blindly we (ie, me and other people with a creative bent) wait in hope that all will come together like some great cataclysmic coalescence when you take advantage, but remain faintly disappointed when the new fails to appear. (Tehe -edited out 'failtly' instead of 'faintly' a few days after posting this - self prophesising!)
But it’s a decision - the family one - that I made at some point. Entered into a contract more binding than any other I’ve made before. And so be it. Occasionally the feeling strikes when you’re applying yourself to parenting, and that is the crux.
Bloody Inspired. My Arse.
(Insert me being interrupted here, huffing off to make a salad, fighting back tears, until refreshing what I’ve just typed in my memory and getting over it, making said salad, finishing dishes, sending kids off to be at their own devises until bed, and finishing this doc in word before editing it so it is legible (in type? I hear you say. Freakin’ hell it’s so bad you can’t even guess the words sometimes!! Totally unreadable in parts!) .
Yes, I’ll have freaking balsamic with that, thanks.
There is a feeling that wells up; that becomes a driving force, that makes a brush flow fluently, a word spill effortlessly on to page, a tool smooth your clay… with sculpting it’s that feeling of having a presence at your shoulder whispering instruction to your ear…\
As an owner of a family you often find yourself at the sink, the clothes line or the school PFA meeting when the feeling takes you, and it swiftly passes on. Sadly it comes and leaves you feeling high and dry and bereft of inspiration when time finally presents itself. Occasionally the two, the feeling and the time, align and remind you of what you have achieved in the past, and leaves you somewhat wistful of what you could have achieved without the struggle. Often when you make advantage of the time, the feeling is no where in sight, but often blindly we (ie, me and other people with a creative bent) wait in hope that all will come together like some great cataclysmic coalescence when you take advantage, but remain faintly disappointed when the new fails to appear. (Tehe -edited out 'failtly' instead of 'faintly' a few days after posting this - self prophesising!)
But it’s a decision - the family one - that I made at some point. Entered into a contract more binding than any other I’ve made before. And so be it. Occasionally the feeling strikes when you’re applying yourself to parenting, and that is the crux.
Bloody Inspired. My Arse.
(Insert me being interrupted here, huffing off to make a salad, fighting back tears, until refreshing what I’ve just typed in my memory and getting over it, making said salad, finishing dishes, sending kids off to be at their own devises until bed, and finishing this doc in word before editing it so it is legible (in type? I hear you say. Freakin’ hell it’s so bad you can’t even guess the words sometimes!! Totally unreadable in parts!) .
Yes, I’ll have freaking balsamic with that, thanks.