Amongst several projects-in-the-works on my desk, there is a pile of to do lists. There is one for an upcoming garage sale. There is one for craft related items I want to acquire, and there's another for crafty ideas I want to put into action. There is a list for stuff that needs doing around the house and another for financial things my husband and I plan to sort out. There is a file of garden projects for our back yard, and there is a checklist of books and authors I'd like to read. You get the notion - my inclination for writing things down for fear I'll otherwise forget all about them. I've been a list maker my whole life. Or at least as long as I can remember. While perusing an artist's profile recently, I laughed out loud when she stated that making to do lists is one of her greatest pleasures. It wasn't funny because I also find it highly pleasant but, unlike her, I feel they're more an obligation than a delight. Well, more like an obligation and a necessity. It's not uncommon for me to joke that my husband is my memory. When he turned 40 last year, I told him he is not allowed any mental decline as he ages because it's his duty to recall things I can't. Kind of joking....kind of not.
This is the story I've been telling myself for years now - they why of list making. On further reflection, the truth has more to do with my propensity to procrastinate by recording my intentions for later action that often never comes to fruition. So why is that? Why do I continue to write these things down? Why do I keep these lists for months or years, even the ones that have never seen a single item crossed off as accomplished? I suspect the reason is fear. (Not just a fear of forgetting, which is genuine.) I'm not talking so much about the reading list or the errand list or the stuff that needs to be sold or given away list although these weigh on my mind to a degree. I'm referring to the creative ideas list and its companion - the things to buy to actually make some of the things on the creative ideas list.
Like so many, I long to be a maker of handmade things that people would actually want to buy. So I write lists and sketch ideas. I buy or borrow books and magazines full of ideas and instructions. I peruse the internet and subscribe to blogs written by artists who inspire me. I watch YouTube videos and sign up for online retreats hosted by artists of various genres. I decorate my craft room with colorful framed prints, plates, ceramics, glass ornaments and carefully organized knickknacks. I have two bookshelves and four IKEA wheeled carts full of supplies in the closet plus two cupboards full of jewelry-making needs and fabric in addition to a small dresser teeming with paper. A large garden trellis covered with hooked screws laden with strands of beads lives next to my desk. I am surrounded with the instruments to create all day long so what's stopping me from doing so?
Fear. I'm afraid that I'm not creative enough or talented enough and that my ideas aren't original or unique. I'm afraid that I would pour my time, money and daydreams into producing items that no one would deem worthy of purchasing. And, sadly, somewhere along the way, I decided to believe that any artistic ambitions weren't feasible. Sure, my elementary/middle school art teacher made it clear (to my mind) with just a look that I hadn't the talent to be an artist when she asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. Indeed, a much-respected college professor once told me point blank that I was afraid of success, and all I could do in response was cry. Yes, I've received criticism from folks over the years when I've given them handmade presents or sold my jewelry. Certainly, I've made mistakes while creating things which didn't turn out well or as planned. Well, there's no success without failure so why not dust myself off, continue learning and creating and get on with it? Especially when I know that becoming good at anything requires practice and dedication? Especially when I know that every job I've ever had, even the ones that I did truly enjoy some aspects of, was never a vocation that was my passion? Not even close to something that continuously lit my inner fire or made me want to leap out of bed in the morning for love of doing the work? Fear, that's why. And at an age where 50 isn't far into my future, one might further ask - what the hell am I waiting for? What AM I waiting for? Good gravy.
My goal for the remainder of 2020 is to make things. Create things. Try new things and turn old ideas and sketches into tangible items. Put my sewing machine (freshly oiled and running smoothly) to use and actually work through some of my fabric hoard. Accept mistakes and learn from them. Watch YouTube videos when I have the supplies in front of me to make what is being taught as opposed to while I'm in bed late at night. And to do it all just for the fun of it and for the pure enjoyment that creating brings. Not because I'm thinking of who might buy it or that the end result is wanting someone to buy it. Just create to create because that is what brings me joy. Okay, I may make some things as gifts, but that's not the same as anxiously wondering if someone would lay down money for my handmade creations.
It just seems silly, ridiculous even, that fear of making things no one might find worthy of buying prevents me from making anything. It is not as though I had a brick-and-mortar store or online shop that failed. It's not as though I set up tables at a craft market and sold nothing. I haven't been brave enough to do these things. The few times I did put my jewelry up for sale at a small venue, I actually sold several pieces or sets. I even had folks commission items in different color schemes afterward. Even so, that fear of not being good enough has remained, and I'm weary of it.
So I'm going to create for the sake of creating and see what happens. Flip through sketch books and journal pages and trays of unfinished projects to give life to my ideas. See what troubleshooting needs to take place and how designs might evolve. Just for the joy of bringing my daydreams into existence. If it leads somewhere else, I'll be happy to see how that journey unfolds.
“If you feel like there’s something out there that you’re supposed to be doing, if you have a passion for it, then stop wishing and just do it.” - Wanda Sykes
