creating creativity

Last night, I was kind of out of it and Mr. F asked me what was up.  Some dramatic arm flailing and a deep sigh emitted from me before I looked at him and said, "I'm creatively constipated."  He chuckled like a fifth grader hearing the word "breast."  I made headway.

Creativity is such an interesting thing, isn't it?  It comes and goes for me, never a constant companion..or so I think.  There will be weeks when I do nothing but paint and sketch and others when all I want to do is organize boxes.  Sometimes, life gets in the way and sometimes I do.  I create my own roadblocks.   Other tasks, laziness, job hunting, and Florida sunshine claim my attention first.  And when these roadblocks appear, I get twitchy and uneasy.  My fingers ache for a piece of fabric or the feel of a paintbrush.  Something..anything...  

Yesterday, I resolved to cure my nervous tick and get back to work.  Sitting down in the kitchen, I pulled out my paints, a piece of paper, and got to work.  And you know what?  It was awful.  I mean, truly.  The idea was right but the execution was horrid.  Ugh..just thinking of it makes me cringe.  I felt dejected and lacked the confidence to break through.  It was then that I realized I was creatively constipated.  Resolved to feel better, I bucked up and marched back to my paints a few hours later.  The results this time were wonderful.  Delicate colors, good composition, and just the right size of stroke.  

It taught me something I had learned as a child, that I have to practice.  Creative moments may come and go, but if I keep at it, they may come around more frequently.  So, I'll keep scouring the garden for more plants and keep my eyes on the river to soak in colors.  And then I'll paint what I feel and get better as I go...