taking a pass

So, yesterday I was supposed to bring stuff in for the Decorator Show House. I was pleased to be invited again, and I decided that this time I would follow through. That was 2 months ago.

Then my sweet dog died and I was busy crying all the time. The weather turned to the Arctic channel and my studio could be used to store meat. If we ate meat. I had 2 important shows to get apps out for and I made new stuff for that. I actually got my web site up and running. I was working 3 days a week at the theater. Then, in a moment of weakness, encouraged by people who love me and wanted me to stop crying, we got a new puppy.

Even with all that, I intended to get things made for the Show House. I did. It was going to be fun and I had plans to meet up with one of my favorite friends after the jury setup for coffee. Then I got sick. Oh, not tragically sick, just a flu/cold. The kind that makes you look at life with squinty eyes, causes your ears to ring so loudly you miss phone calls, puts a tickle in your throat that makes going to the movies a bad idea. Piffle. Still gonna do it. Even when the tickle turned to a wheeze and then a rumble, still gonna do it. I had a whole day.

I decided to take a short nap, recharge, and spend a few hours in the studio getting things together. Remember, in my life, procrastination is an art form. I curled up under a comforter in the afternoon sun and woke up, almost 4 hours later, in the dark.

Surrender. You win, life. Hot tea with lemon and honey coming up. Emailed my friend and rescheduled coffee. Bless her, she offered to schlepp my stuff in for me, but I told her I just couldn't make it happen.

It's a conversation I've had with folks in this business over the years. Creativity-v-necessity. Can a creative person lock themselves in a room and just "make it happen" by force of will? I don't think so. I have to go to the studio with anticipation and a brain that is churning or it is a disaster. I've tried scheduling my work. I've tried just sitting at the table in a Zen mood, waiting for inspiration. I've tried spending an hour doing routine "grunt' work, like cutting and hinging book board or just making covers. That's too much like a job. But when I'm having fun and both sides of my brain are awake, I can stay up there for hours and make things that I'm proud of.

So, I have learned to accept that I work my way, in my time, at my pace. I would probably be more successful if there was some self-discipline thrown into that equation, but then I might as well go back to government work. Many well-meaning people have offered suggestions about how I could/should handle this little business of mine. But, you know, the keywords are business of mine. For better or worse, richer (hah) or poorer (more likely), this little shop is mine.

Come May when friends are reaping the benefits of a lucrative gig at the Show House, I'll be attempting to lubricate these old joints well enough to actually kick myself. I know that. But this morning, with a puppy whimpering for attention, a head and chest stuffed with cotton, a warm bed beckoning me to return for more comfort, I'm taking a pass.

And waiting for inspiration.