Itchy

I woke with an edge inside me this morning, a call to do something more today. It's a lovely call, really, a voice in my brain bent on creating.

Will I listen? I haven't listened to the call much of late. I've filled my world with dishes, trips to the store, paper sorting, and other inane activities. It's as if I wish the voice to just go away, to leave me alone in mundane world and go off to call to somebody else. 

That is what separates an artist from one who is not. I write this, not to chastise you, but to goad myself into action. I'm not a writer if I don't write. I'm not a painter if I don't paint. I'm not a pianist if I don't play. Artists create. If they don't, they aren't artists.

I recently met an painter who, even at a young age, was compelled to paint. Any chance he got, with any medium at hand, on any surface, if given any free time. He listened to that urgent voice early on. And he painted, and painted, and painted. And he's still listening, still heeding, still painting. 

I've been going at this all wrong all my life. I've been locking this voice in a closet, letting it out only when I have a bunch of free time, when all my chores are done (which is not often). I've said I will write/paint/dance/sing/go to the ball only if I get all my work done. I've been my own evil stepmother.

That ends today. Permanently. I'm kicking my evil stepmother to the curb. I'm getting what I have to do done, but the rest of the time is mine. To paint. To create. To play. To turn my ideas into tangible, beautiful reality. I will not die regretting all things I never got around to creating. I am a Maker (as Orson Scott Card would term it), and it's about damned time I made something.

I have 14 hours until bedtime. Plenty of time to make something. 

Weekend Update

It's been over a week since I checked in... and, as usual, I've been busy.

I spent the holiday sifting out a bunch of activities, but, lo and behold, I've managed to add a bunch of other activities in just as swiftly. I've set up and opened an art gallery show, developed two college courses--one in-class, one online--and I've started on a new theatrical journey with my two little ones. 

Believe it or not (for those of you who've been checking in some lately), my brave little son sang well enough that he's been cast as OLIVER TWIST. Yup, he was floored, amazed, and a bit overwhelmed at first--as was I--but we're settling into this new evening pattern of rehearsals and singing and practicing lines. Kind of cool, actually. Nope, it's flat out AWESOME! This is the beginning of a long-running involvement in theatre for him, I think. Even better, my daughter has found her place in the company, and I have a part, too, so we all get to attend rehearsals together. 

I'm also about to attack the project of costuming the show--hurray! Costuming is my favorite kind of sewing, and the added bonus of outfitting Dickens' characters doesn't hurt, either. It'll take some time and prep, but it's going to be truly fun as I work through it.

Plus, I'm gearing up to work again on my spirit book, and I'm in the cogitation stage for a whole series of novels set here in Bainbridge. The research I do for this other book will be helpful in creating the atmosphere of the series, and I hope to eventually do a great deal to add to the tourism possible in this particular area. 

I'll let you know how it all goes. I know it sounds ambitious, but I can't help that. My life is too short not to get stuff done.

Anything ambitious on your plate lately?