|old iron, foam heads|
It's an awesome thing to build something from nothing, but then even more of - well I guess - more of a responsibility to nourish and grow it.
Some of the ideas are banal, things that slip through the cracks because, well, because I'm sewing everything I sell by hand, one at a time, and I'm trying to stay alive! Like gift certificates. Hello Helen, why don't you sell those online?
Others are more big and dreamy, like: I want to write a book. I have a folder on my computer that already has an outline and notes I've scrawled from time to time. Yes, I'd like to make that happen. I would publish it myself, heck I may even build each one out of kraft paper and packing tape.
But mostly I'm trying to figure out how to embrace every day, keep my work enjoyable, and stay on a path I respect. Go ahead and laugh, I'm laughing. Oh! That's it, I'll just embrace every day! Like I've never tried that before. But really, I think I'm getting there. The truth is that I'm getting used to worrying about starving, not paying my bills, never retiring, and the fear that suddenly, all on the same day of course, everyone on earth will decide they don't like my work. Those fears get boring after a while. That's right, I said it, they bore me.
I just watched a documentary about David Lynch and I'm smitten with the way he works - on movies but also on painting, on ceramics, on tinkering around with just about anything. He just states plainly that you really need to enjoy doing the work itself. And that if you don't enjoy it "you should do something else." Okay. That sounds good.
Also, I want to learn how to say "Hello" the same way he answers the phone. Hel-LO!