I’ve never understood those people who have nothing to do, or say they are bored. I do get bored, but that’s usually more due to spending too long in the wrong situation than having nothing to do. I always have something to do. I’m a busy person. I’ve always got stuff to do and projects on the go. Its not really something to be proud of; yes I get many things done in a day but too often they are either obligations for work, or for someone else, or those small, inconsequential things that make me feel better by ticking something off a long list, and at what cost to the bigger picture, the heart’s desire?
One thing I have learned is that you genuinely can’t have too many pots boiling over on the stove at once. Something has to give. At the moment, I’m juggling three part time jobs and also trying to finalise the edit for the memoir I’ve been writing. It’s very nearly done but it’s taking time and concentration and there are only so many hours and so much energy in the day. Art has fallen by the wayside.
At times like these it feels that something is missing, and it is. The need to draw or make cut out shapes is stronger than any expectation of the result, and it feels like a loss. I am really missing that feeling of sitting down to a blank page with no agenda except to play. But I know I’ll come back to it. My sketchbooks and scissors and crayons are waiting patiently for the time when I feel I have enough space in my head to create something new, and for now, there is just time and energy to make a tiny little sketch of the flowers on my table, cut from the garden first thing this morning.