i miss creating with my hands
my desk is awry with pens, markers, highlighters, stickers, all scattered about. i have 5 journals on my desk, each serving a different purpose, and somehow only 1 book (which typically has at least 3!).
while i have no place for my arms to rest, here i am, typing away on top of the pens slipping and sliding beneath them as i share what's on my mind. or my heart. just being present.
i feel this creative urge to work with my hands more. i used to papermake, did you know that? i was in ceramics before, and made bowls and plates my family still have to this day. i miss working with these materials, helping me feel closer to earth, making items that were reusable, or in the case of papermaking, recycled.
i even bound a few small journals i made with the paper i made myself. what ever happened to the uninhibited me who would take advantage of free will and just create?
my soul yearns to create something out of nothing (or rather, something out of materials). writing here is creating something, too, right? i could livestream and create a space and experience with others, which allows us all to co-create, really!
that's what i love about livestreams.
maybe i will stream while i make paper and clay products! maybe not, because also that creative time could be used for just me, myself, and i.
i have this incessant desire to do ALL THE THINGS and yet there are more tombstones in my hobby graveyard than i care to count. (more like, thinking of writing them all out causes me stress. or maybe a fear that i will go down memory lane and become a necromancer and revive them just to try out those special interests once or twice before their inevitable return to their grave, their resting place).
what will these hands create, what will this mind invent, what will fulfill the heart's desire to birth something new into this world?
it doesn't have to be novel or world-changing -- it gets to just be something i get the pleasure and honor of saying i made it myself.
there's something i've been taking great pleasure in lately: cooking. not only am i preparing much healthier and satisfying meals, the fact that i made it myself feels so infused with love and intention i sometimes wonder why i ever stopped! (it's a no-brainer: cooking takes time and sometimes more capacity than i have at times. and don't forget the dishes. there's always so many dishes).
but alas, whenever i do cook, i feel this inexplicable joy and gratitude for the wonderful privilege of having food, shelter, and the required equipment and tools to fashion such a delightful meal.
there's so much to be grateful for, and yet i still grieve for my dad who will never get to experience the holiday season again. the absence of him, knowing i will never get to talk to him in his physical body again or that we won't be able to hug again is tough.
anyways, i want to create and remind myself that i am alive and kicking! and that life is for the living! i must remember to take full advantage of that when i awake from my exhaustion, anxiety, and stress.
i bid you well and hope this entry is helpful some way, some how.
love you,
nadine ♥