At the beginning of the year I chose a word to be my focus: CREATE.
I wasn’t sure quite what I wanted to create. Was is a book? knitting projects? this blog? new habits? new hobbies?
Truth be told I am still not quite sure, but at the same time I am more certain.
I do not have specifics of what I want to create. I just want to be creating.
I think I spent most of my life not thinking of myself as a creative. I drew, but I was no artist. I knit, but I was no maker. I wrote, but I was no writer.
I wanted to be all of those things, but how to chose? My interests would flit from one thing to another. I would get obsessed with a project, finish it, and decide I wanted to do something completely different next. Round and round my mind would go, never really focusing, never really settling.
Maybe it’s my age, maybe it’s just maturity (which is not necessarily tied to age), but I now feel like that’s perfectly OK. Who says a writer can’t be a musician (Stephen King) or an actor can’t be photographer (Viggo Mortensen) or a knitter can’t be an artist (Sina) or a writer can’t be a knitter (Penny Reid)?
I mean, could you imagine telling Da Vinci to stick to just one medium?
So why should I expect that of myself?
Why should I try to pigeonhole myself?
I am not doing this as some career shift (though it would be nice to find a way to make an income from my creating.) I’m doing this because something in the very heart of me demands I let it out, in all it’s various expressions.