Growing up, I was an artsy kid. My dad was a talented artist and I like to think that I inherited my creativity from him. I used to decorate envelopes with elaborate drawings ~ some were abstract, a few were of every day scenes. My mother loved receiving letters from me, she would decorate her day care center with them, pointing out each new one to parents as they came to drop off or pick up their children. For me, the thrill came from figuring out how to integrate the addresses and the stamps into the drawings.
After I had kids, I started to focus my creativity less on my artistic pursuits and more on how to get four kids under the age of five to walk in the same direction. As they grew older, I became more and more focused on them and their lives…the things they needed to grow and develop. Slowly I lost myself and all the things that used to make me happy. I’m not complaining, just stating a fact that is the truth of any mother’s life.
A few months ago when I became unemployed, one of my biggest fears was that I’d go nuts from boredom or, worse, get shlumpy. Part of me is going a little stir crazy and I have been known to stay in sweats and a tee all day, but the other part of me is enjoying the opportunity I’ve had to rediscover my creative side. I’ve been doing all sorts of fun stuff like staining wood, redecorating rooms, sculpting food and hand sewing pillows. I’m hoping that some day soon I’ll get the nerve to pick up the pencils again but even if I don’t, it’s been fun and exciting to find that I haven’t been totally lost, just temporarily misplaced.