I have a hankering for doing something creative lately. On my mind have been the following activities I would LONG to do (were I given a 36 hour day in which to have time to do some of them):
- Paint. Yes, dear heavens above, I want to PAINT! I see images online of artists I love and all I can think of is, ‘dang, I need to break out my artist sketch box and get to work’.
- Photography. Most noticeably, film. Or maybe it’s just the acquisition of more cameras with which to cultivate and satiate my voracious photography appetite.
- Video. I’m not using my handy little Flip cam and making it all it can be. Hmm. Sad.
- Letterpress. I took classes up at the U of U several years ago, before letterpress became “popular” all over again and is now on every trendy and creative blog you can think of. I almost bought my own letterpress when I graduated with my undergrad in 2002. It was $300. That same dang press is now selling for $850. For the love…
- Writing. I feel as if my innards are bursting to write. I do it every day for work, but it’s not for me. I want to write…with a beautiful fountain pen…in gorgeous journals from Italy. Really, is that so much to ask for?
I look at this list and then I depress myself by looking at other blogs of women I know, most of them mothers with kids, and it seems like they are constantly creating. SHEESH. I feel sadly behind the modern mommy times. Women seem to be wonderfully creative, verbally expressive (like that’s hard), and raise exceptionally talented spawn.
I just want my paints, preferably a little compact watercolor case, a fresh block of paper, sable hair brushes, travel sketch box/easel, and a glorious subject to paint. Like anywhere in the Mediterranean. Or Caribbean. Or Fiji.
I’m not being too picky, am I?