I had the opportunity to take my two oldest girls to seminary Thursday. I didn’t want to go in and learn because, quite frankly, there are people in there. So I decided to sit in the car with my ipod and look through craft magazines. Something I don’t generally do because when I’m home there’s always something else I need to be doing. (Not that I’m ever doing it you see)
So I was reading this article about this woman and her craft. As I flipped through the photos of her work and in hearing her creative process and love she had since she was wee-bitty it made me swoon with the passion I have for creating.
I really think I hold myself back. I place restrictions upon myself of burden that my items are not 'just right'. I worry about detail and critique myself to death to where I find only flaw. I lose my objectivity. I think it needs to fit a mold and when the Etsy shops or local orders slow I blame it on my quality, or lack of form or … well let’s just say the OCD sets in and I pull, pick and rip it to shreds.
The other day Ethan came home from school, kissed me, gave me my daily I just got off the bus hug and said, “Hey Mama, you’re an artisan.”
E: “Yah, we learned that word today. You’re an artisan, a person who is skilled in a craft. I told them my mom was an artisan.”
But it’s funny. I make primitive and homespun crafts. There are no rules, no technique that must be applied; no one way to make them all. I forget that sometimes. I tend to lose sight of the fact that it is my creative expression that I’m selling/giving not a factory direct, same as the other type of item.
I lose my skill in wondering what others would think opposed to what I want to express. Loosely put together, seams and strings fraying, paint that goes over the lines, shapes that don’t match its brother before him. I am an artisan of fabrication in a hand-made assembly line where creation, self-satisfaction and story-line are all comprised into an object made with love and time.
I forget that. (I forget a lot of things, mainly not to dress in the dark) So that was my epiphany for today. I need, in this quest for finding me again, to allow myself to draw outside the lines and shout through my art and sing the song of creative expression. I need to find joy (again) in the fact that there are no rules to what my imagination sparks.
I’ve placed guidelines on myself and my craft and I think my writing for that matter. As of late I have realized that I worry about readers and buyers and networking. (Not that I’m doing anything about it, I just allow that worry) Whereas I used to just write because that’s what I set out to do. I craft because I enjoy the results of forming, crafting, designing and making.
So, I don’t have followers anymore, so I don’t get comments, so my sales are slow… I run a pretty tight ship in this here house. I find inspiration in the home itself the result of its craftsmanship and the woods that surround it.
I absorb the brilliance of those that surround me; those plantlets that are growing before my eyes that came from my body. Their smiles and giggles and genius lil brains that speak such intricate thoughts I have never before pondered.
How blessed am I?
Today I will create, from the heart, with insight that is yet again newly discovered as a flipped leaf.
Smiling, I journey to find me; the artisan.