Creatively Restless

I crafted 8, yes eight, pairs of earrings today. I sliced the tip of one finger on beading wire, and stabbed another to the point of blood. I also put a paint brush to a canvas for the very first time in my life. Now, my brain is moving so swiftly that I have to write or my cranium may find itself in a dire situation from an outward explosion. Never in my life have I experienced the kind of day that I had.

To anyone that knows me, its no secret that I am a naturally restless person. I can't sit still, and God forbid I have to focus on a mundane task for too long. I fidget, I shift, my right foot sways back and forth at the joint more often than I'd like to admit. Restless. Its probably one of the defining characteristics that makes up the core of my being. But typically my restlessness is a result of my overactive brain, too much sitting, or boredom. Today, my restless resulted from an intense need to create. There was near a feeling of if-I-don't-create-something-I-may-just-explode.

It was odd, really. I consider myself to be a creative person, though not a terribly effective one. Jack of all trades, master of none effectively sums up my opinion of my artistic side. Yes, I am decent at a few things and most definitely have varied interest creatively. But nothing I do has that "wow" factor. Perhaps I am too hard on myself (most creative types are), but there is a mediocrity in my art that makes me look at it and say "eh.

However, this side of me took over with a ferocity that was near frightening. It was gripping, all consuming. Like a drug that seeped through my skin and found its way into my bloodstream and coursed through my body.

After driving around for an hour this afternoon (I still don't know where alot of things are around here), I finally came upon my desired destination of Michael's Craft Store. A danger zone with the kind of day I was having. Aaaaaahhhh!!!!! With a joviality that can only be compared to that of a small child on Christmas Eve, I raced through the aisles finding all kind of goodies, including several small canvases, some acrylic paint, a few brushes, and an easel. I have never, and I mean never, painted anything in my life. Well, besides those paint by numbers things, but they hardly count.

My first work of art is hardly anything to brag about, but I am still somewhat proud of my efforts. It was exciting to try something new and not have it look completely awful. I can hardly wait until tomorrow to go back to the craft store (now that I can actually find it) and purchase a few more items so that I can get this idea in my head out on a canvas. Oh joy!

I don't know what's wrong with me lately. I can probably chalk some of it up to the adjustment of being away from nearly everything and everyone I know. I am probably bottling up some emotions that are coming out through this need to create, rather than being soothed by the comfort of familiarity. Who knows. But, while it continues, I can only hope to be able to produce something decent out of it.

One can never tell. I might become an artist yet...