…there was a very lucky nine year old girl (the one behind her sister) who travelled to distant lands and saw wondrous sights and wondered if she could one day grow up and go back to those distant lands to study the history of these ancient people.
Unfortunately, she was told to turn her attention away from such silly thoughts.
She was told that all that could be found was found.
She was told all that could be known was known.
She was told, it was foolish.
And so, she turned away from these foolish thoughts and silly dreams.
Decades later she watched documentary after documentary showing the new discoveries being made of those ancient people she had longed to study. This made the young woman she had grown up to be very sad, and so she vowed to listen to no one else about how and what to do with her dreams. Eventually, she met a man who felt the same way and encouraged her to follow her dreams, no matter how silly they may seem to others.
She never went back to that distant land, but she is living happily (ever after.)
Trying to come up with a topic every day for this uncategorized blog is not coming easily. For years I have read blogs from artists or homeschooling moms, baby blogs and CrossFit ones. I love having an insight into people’s everyday lives. It is one of the reasons I wanted to do this blog.
But there also seems to be this tremendous pressure to monetize blogs and make them look super curated and artistic.
I’m not sure that is me.
I just want to share a little bit about myself, and make connections with readers and bloggers.
My life is not super fancy. I don’t have a gorgeously decorated home. I live in a tiny 800 square foot cottage in the mountains. I’m a true homebody unless I’m traveling somewhere. I love to craft, but I’m not a guru in any one discipline. Probably because I love to do all the things, so I never get really good at any one thing. Hell, I’m a beginner or dabbler in almost all of the things I do.
I can guarantee anyone who comes here will mostly see ramblings about my day and photos when I remember to take them. They will see me write about fears and insecurities (a lot). They will read about my attempts to make art, both in writing and through textile and visual means.
And they will see me document the life I want to make for myself.
I am embarking on a journey into the Creative Life.
It is a world I have watched, standing outside in the cold, with my nose pressed against the glass, and longing for the warmth within. I would tell myself that was for other people, people who were “good at it.” Even as I tell my kids that they have to start and make mistakes before they could develop the skills they wanted, I never let myself hear my own advice.
It has only taken forty-two years to give myself permission to live that creativity.