This morning I stopped by my favorite little local coffee shop on my way to work and as my latte was being prepared, the manager stuck his head out the drive-thru window and asked me if my car tag, "Kre8ive," really meant "creative." I said yes and then he asked why I had chosen that for my tag. I found myself at a loss for words. I didn't have the courage to say, "Well, it's because I'm an artist." Because I don't really think I am. But I do think of myself as creative. I know that I like to make things. I finally ended up telling him it was because I like to create things with my hands, things like jewelry and paintings, etc. He was satisfied with the answer - but I'm not sure I am.
Right now I'm going through a really dry spell creatively, and I understand why. The stress of my mother's situation doesn't leave much emotion for anything else. And being creative is emotional for me. But if I were truly creative, wouldn't I need to create something to help relieve some of the stress? Instead, I find myself wanting to curl up and go to sleep. I don't think I've taken more than 3 or 4 pictures during this entire time except for last weekend in Chattanooga when I took over 150. And of those 150, there are maybe three or four that I like, that I think are something other than just snapshots. I look at my little sketch journal and it feels as though it belongs to someone else. I decided the other night that I needed a pair of earrings to match a blouse - but when I sat down to make them, it just wasn't working. And it wasn't from a shortage of beads, either. I could open a bead store and have plenty of stock.
Regardless, I'm keeping my Kre8ive car tag. And hoping that some day before too long I'll have the time, energy and desire to once again create something.
Joy Journal: Today is my birthday. And as my boss said, "Birthdays are good for you - the more you have, the longer you live."