why is it so difficult?

Well I know why . . . when I try to get rid of some of my ‘stuff’ especially when they are things I have tried to cull in the past, the emotional attachment starts to speak a lot louder than common sense.  Common sense says that “You haven’t laid eyes on it for years (in some cases), no-one else has any attachment to it so get rid of it!”  But then there is that little “ah” and a smile at a memory that happens which prevents me form putting it in the smaller of two piles.   The piles being ‘Keep’ and ‘Get-it-out-of-the-house-asap!’

The reason for this clearing out of ancient bits and pieces came about when I had to get everything out from under a bed to move it and empty a small bedside cabinet, previously my mother’s, to give to my grandheart.  And of course when you start, somehow other cupboards and beds start to yield up their bounty.

Some of it has taken up residence in my tiny office . . . it was tidy but now I can barely get in there and until I start cleaning that up  . . . oh take pity on me when I start!  Instead of “if in doubt, chuck it out!” it will be “I’ll keep this, it might come in handy!”

There’s not going to be a lot of work happening here!
Wendy @ the Late Start Studio

This argumentative pair are bound to come in handy don’t you think? Perhaps I could put a use by date on them.
Wendy @ the Late Start Studio

So there I am with an untidy pile of old tat all over the floor, tripping me up, stuff that I haven’t touched for years yet somehow I can’t part with much of it . . . and I’m not talking about resources for art or craft work!  So far I have managed to be fairly ruthless however there are other things that will sit in a box, and sit, and sit until some time way off in the future when space is more of an issue.  Things like: a card I discovered, from me to my mother that she kept (actually I’ve now decided to toss that); the little notebook she had less than a year before she died where, in her shaky 96 year-old handwriting, my address and phone number appears on every second as does her own; a letter, not dated, from years before where her writing was strong and purposeful. There is no getting rid of some things . . . it’s just too difficult.

I have jewellery, not good, from umpteen years ago, not worn for yonks . . . .that’s all going (unless I think some of the bits might be useful to make a wigwam for a goose’s brindle some time).  And can you tell me why did I keep the hideous Harry Potter-like spectacles I wore about 35 years ago? Furthermore, why didn’t anyone tell me they were so fugly?  These are the easy things, these and the brass bells and candlesticks from the 1970s.  Why did I keep them in the first place?

And after this lot is taken care of, after the office has been culled and organised, after I’ve dropped things off to the second-hand shop and made a trip to the tip . . . well then I have to start on the mementoes from 7 years of living overseas and travelling around the world.  I know I’ll feel great when it’s done but heaven forfend!  Save me from myself!

art for art’s sake

I’m off to investigate a pile . . . you know one of those piles you tidy things into but never quite get put away but at least they look neat(ish) even if they do become a dumping place for bits of twine picked up on the beach and threaten to take on a life of their own, growing, multiplying even..

A growing pile . . . beginning to gather flotsam and jetsam from the beach.
Wendy @ Late Start Studio

I know there are some eco-prints on paper of Banksia and pohutukawa leaves in there near to top. I’m thinking I might stitch into them and start a sample book.  I get hooked into thinking I need to make things that have a purpose other that their appearance so I reckon a sample book will be really useful for when I make something else . . . that may or may not be just for display.  I don’t mean ‘just’ as a synonym for ‘merely’ I mean that display is its sole purpose . . . like a painting or sculpture perhaps.

A piece of art that communicates with the viewer is serving a purpose however I have had many years of only giving myself permission to be creative when the object serves some utilitarian purpose as well.  Part of that drive to have a ‘use’ was financial and part just my practicality.

I’m beginning to suspect that ‘finding a use’ is just another means of procrastination, and probably another of the IC’s (Inner Critic) tricks to stop me playing. And now I can hear the IC start in about my audacity in considering what I might come up with as ‘art’ so do you know what I’m saying?  “SHUT UP! Move over and give me some room!”

internal conflict in the studio

Last week Quinn McDonald published The Pull of Inner Critic and Inner Hero and it really got me thinking.   I’ve known for some time that my strengths are also a kind of curse: I guess if you build a strong fortress, then when you are under siege you’re a prisoner in a jail of your own making.

It took a long time to realise that my being a ‘mucker’ (my uncle’s nickname for me), always exploring and trying new things, never settling on anything for long, made me incredibly versatile.   It took time too to realise that being a Jack-of-all-trades-master-of-none wasn’t as demeaning as it sounds, because that reframes as being versatile as well.  These dubious titles led to me developing the belief that if someone else can do whatever, the chances are I can.

So this versatility, this confidence that I can do just about anything I want, how is that a curse?  It’s a curse because I want to do everything and I want to do it now and I want to do it perfectly!  And no surprises, that plan just isn’t working out well!

That aspect of my versatile Inner Hero that says “Of course you can!” is countered by the damnable  Inner Critic who provides a smorgasbord of possibilities and as a consequence I’m stunned like a possum in a cars headlights.

Wendy @ Late Start Studio

Tammy Garcia once wrote ‘much better to start late than never begin at all’ which eventually gave me the blog name, Late Start Studio.  And yes, I’m starting late, and I know I don’t have to catch up I just have to start but oh, I want to catch up!  And I want to be a master of something!   But what?    Here I am, stunned, frozen, telling myself “just to something!”  Anything!  Just pick something and DO IT!  But one day I make some crazy stuffed creature, or a little soft sculpture, or paint a page in my journal, make another stencil or stamp or pencil-case or . . . you get the picture.

Versatile Inner Hero on one hand, Inner Critic spilling out all the options like the contents of a suitcase on the other.    I guess I’ll just have to settle for being a Master Mucker!

Those who wait for every little thing to be perfect before they embark on a project or who dislike the compromise of a partial solution are among the least happy.  Ideal circumstances are seldom given to anyone for an undertaking.

Deng Ming-Dao: 365 Daily Meditations, p.295

change is so hard

The last week of my long summer holiday was taken up having new carpet laid throughout the house.  This is the first time I have ever had that luxury feeling of a brand new, decent quality carpet underfoot and when you’re essentially a barefoot fan . . . mmmmm loverly!

Preparing for the carpet layers meant that everything that sits on the floor had to be removed . . . thank goodness it’s summer and we had some dry weather!  Without my son and grandhearts coming to lend a hand I doubt I could have done it.  The girls were amazing and very willing to carry the smaller things outside while Adam and I moved the bigger items.  We arranged to leave some of the heavy furniture for the carpet layers.

During the removal process, I apologised to my son several times for the volume of stuff I have and, although I’m not planning to shuffle off this mortal coil any time soon, I have promised to buy nothing more that isn’t a replacement for something that is completely munted, I will use up what I can and weed out what I can get rid of . . . sell, donate, dump. Believe me, by the time I had moved everything back, single-handed, I was adopting this affirmation big time!   I have everything I need and more! 

A true statement in every area of my life . . . how about you?  Do you itch to have one more whatever?  A bigger or better thingimijig?  The latest whatsit, gizmo or doofer?  You probably don’t NEED it, you might WANT it but let’s be realistic . . . if you have access to good food, a warm bed, friends and family who know you on the inside and love you anyway, the freedom to make choices and some means of personal empowerment, fun, what more do you really need?   I’ve never really lusted after loads of possessions . . . I’m just a bit of a magpie and I’ve done my bit supporting struggling artisans around the world.

WANTS and NEEDS are very different and I’m focussing on getting my NEEDS met.Which brings me to my favourite tights.  They’ve died.  There is a hole in one knee and it’s just a matter of time before the other goes too . . . but I’m still wearing them.  Even mending is unwarranted as the stretch is going.  Although munted they can’t be replaced, Kozmik is out of business and these, you have to agree, are unique.  I guess I’ll just have to get out some of my fabric and some dye and make a new pair.  Do I NEED a new pair?  No.  Do I want a new pair?  Not really . . . unless they’re equally interesting.  Can I make a pair without buying anything else? Yes!  So if I want them enough . . . get my drift?

These wonderful tights . . . I bought them about 18 years ago and with some time-out when I didn’t wear them, they’ve lasted, although lately they’ve been getting a thrashing.  When an old favourite anything wears out it’s often irreplaceable and we have to get rid of the old, worn out whatever and accept something new.   Habits are like that too . . . the old habit has served it’s purpose, might not be taking us where we want to go in life but it’s hard to break and hard to adopt a new behaviour.

I am very reluctant to throw away these tights, I love these tights and if I decide to make them into something else I know they would just sit and be another job-to-do instead of a pleasurable, creative project.  They would become another bit of stuff weighing me down with responsibility.  So here’s the deal . . . when they cannot be worn decently around the house, I either make them into a toy as a keepsake or they go into the bin the VERY SAME DAY.  Oh . . . they’ll still be stuff for my son and daughter to get rid of!

Who in their right mind is so emotionally attached to a pair of crazy tights!  I think I need help . . . I kid you not!

Quinn McDonald’s guest!

I started my blog relatively recently however the people who have been the most encouraging have been at it for considerably longer and have a clear purpose.   I’m still looking for mine . . . here with this blog and life in general.

One of the blogs I visit regularly is that of Quinn McDonald.  The people who comment regularly give almost as many thought-provoking contributions as the posts themselves and appear to be a cross-section of people, all of whom seem to want to live more satisfying and creative lives.    My contributions are sometimes stream of consciousness rants and when Quinn suggested one as a guest post I was extremely flattered and, rather than procrastinate about it, the next time I had something to rabbit on about I sent it through to her.   I was thinking about all the poor choices I do, all the automatic, thoughtless habits, that stop me from doing and being the best me I can.  You can read it here or go to Quinn’s blog and read it there . . . I believe in giving choices.

Dirty Little Addictions

Yes, most of us have them and from time to time they get out of hand.  I have one: I knew of it’s existence before partaking but eventually a personal introduction was made by a friend, well it was more like the way a new convert would be indoctrinated into a cult and I fell for it hook, line and sinker.  At first it was harmless and I thought I had full control, no one, not even me, was being hurt.  Now?  I can’t quite say the same.  The effect of this energy sapping, mind numbing (most addictions are), debilitating and dirty little addiction is that I am wasting my time, time I can never recover.

Because I have had a month off work and don’t need to clear my mind of rubbish by putting even more in its place (how pointless is that!) I am noticing how much precious time this compulsion robbing away from me.

I’ve tried to ration when I allow myself to indulge but to no avail.  Do I need to go cold turkey?  Is that even possible?  Do I need to find myself a 12-step programme and work through it?    I joke that I have oodles of willpower but next to no won’t-power.  Not funny.  I have to come up with a plan whereby I am accountable for what is wasted on this dirty little secret of mine.

Perhaps some kind soul would come and wave a big stick around, threaten, cajole, encourage by turns.  That might be a fine plan but will hardly empower me to make my own decisions, live my own life.  There’s only one thing for it . . . do it myself.  I got myself into this mess and I know I have lots of company but small comfort that is!

I don’t need to tell you what it is; you might try and experience the initial thrill of it for yourself and so it’s better you remain ignorant.  No, I need to ‘fess up to myself, put on my big girl knickers and get on with living! Remember, “Each day passes whether you participate or not,” Deng Min Dao, 365 Tao: Daily Meditations.

a birthday

Why is it that I leave things to the last minute?  I leave tasks I don’t really want to do until my dreams are invaded in a most unwelcome manner.  And it’s not as if I’m doing anything enjoyable while I procrastinate; I deprive myself of pleasure until I have completed what needs to be done – except perhaps for a walk along the beach.   On Sunday it was relatively crowded with 21 people, Monday, just 4 and a dog.  Who among you can resist the call of the sea?

Sunday, October 6th 2012 facing east.

Monday, October 8th 2012 facing west towards the Tararua Range

So Monday was a little different in the procrastination department – I wanted to make a card for my grand-daughter’s 8th birthday so I gave over the entire afternoon to the pleasure of making it.  I started with a cereal box, gesso, some paint, the sheet music to Climb Every Mountain (it seemed apt) and pens.  The time slipped by and I suddenly realised I was ravenous.  Yesterday, Tuesday, was the party and today . . . oh today I need to do some day-job work.  Never be confused about educators just swanning off for the entirety their holidays; there is always, always some work to do before the term starts.

Now, time for a walk along the beach before lunch . . . just checking to see if the mouth of the stream changed course yet again and what’s come in on the tide.

a BFO strikes again!

I was aware of an earlier BFO (a Blinding Flash of the Obvious) being brought to my attention once more – it was around a line in a meditation that went ‘each day passes whether you participate or not’, Deng Min-Dao, 365 Meditations.

Let me tell you, I think far too much.  Sometimes I write just to see where it will lead me and it helps to quiet everything down.  You see I’m an ideas person my mid is constantly in top gear and I like this about myself.  My ideas are often creative approaches to problem solving or for unusual projects – I have far more ideas than I can possibly carry out.  Or could I?  That’s the thing, that perhaps I could and just don’t because of why?  Because of fear?  Of what?  Of my own criticism?  That it won’t be perfect?  That because it may not be ‘useful’ it is of no use?  These questions plague me, they stymie me and stay me from action on all but the simplest of projects – the ones I know I can do immediately or in one sitting.  I need to break out and try something completely new.  Completely new.

I have an idea of how I would like my life to be.  There I am in my house, light, open, airy, spacious rooms suited to their purpose.  Not making do and wanting something better, it’s simple and well planned.  Sunshine, a garden with flowers and vegetables, trees for shade.  Or rain beating on the roof, the wind howling outside, a cosy fire and music.

And what am I doing in this environment?  I’m . . . I cannot quite see what I’m doing.  I think I’d like to be making, creating, painting, sewing . . . all for pleasure.  But there you go, I’m not certain what I want to be doing.  I know I’d be gardening, talking and eating with friends, relaxing and reading, but with hands busy making things in a workshop/studio that spills over into the rest of the house which sounds pretty much what happens now because the ‘studio’ is more of a large cupboard for storage.  But if I’m too scared to start doing what I think I’d like to be doing, and don’t really know what it is anyway what hope is there for me?  I don’t want to grow old with too many regrets and I’m afraid that if I don’t start now I will – but I do believe I have started by just confronting the issue.  One thing I do know is that I won’t be doing one thing – I’d get bored . . . I think.

Is that what those dreams are about, where I am using my last ounce of strength to save myself and knowing I should care more for myself so I’ll be stronger?  Where I know that I am entering last-chance territory?   You know the dreams, out there on the rocks, the tide is coming in, have to get back to shore.

To continue I need to look at what I have and think about William Glasser’s three Choice Theory/Reality Therapy questions.

1.  What do I want?
2. What am I doing to get it?
3. Is it working?

I need to make a plan – and I do not need to get everything done and dusted, completed, out of the way (of what you might ask), to make all perfect before I start because if I start all will be perfect, unpredictably perfect.  I need to not wait until I have a definitive answer to question 1.

All those photos that need to be sorted, that ephemera from my travels including the 110+ boarding passes, the family photos and family tree – they can be part of it.

I can work out what I cannot move on without doing (finish painting the laundry and bathroom for a start).  Do it and move on simultaneously – the rest can wait or go.  Moving on fearfully is better than staying stuck.  Oh, that’s a BFO!

Dream the I’m possible dream.   Trite but true.

the back burner

Do you refer to half-finished projects as being on the back burner?   I’ve been thinking about this saying recently, one reason being that I’m going back to work full-time in a demanding but satisfying job so I will need to put aside some of the creative ventures that take up my time and ideas I have for the near future.

To me, when something is one the back burner, it’s simmering, reducing to a wonderful, savoury, taste delight where flavours combine to make something wonderous.

I visited a glass factory in Yangon Myanmar where rejects were put out under the trees – definitely on the back-burner!  Eventually everything would be recycled.  The place sparkled in the sunshine and looked for all the world like an Aladdin’s cave full of treasure. 

My friends and I were invited to look for anything we might want – it was like a treasure hunt.    I bought a large, wonderfully lop-sided, bowl and a number of small paper weights.

When things are laid aside, it’s not necessarily the end for them.  Partially finished projects, plans or ideas can be refined, redesigned and invested with new life – they’ll wait for you.

procrastination

I thought my procrastinating was all done but it wasn’t – is it ever?

I thought to myself, it’s almost time for lunch so I’ll just wash the salt off the windows then eat so I won’t find myself starving at 3:00pm.  Living at the beach it gets to the point where you can hardly see out!   I am to be congratulated for cleaning them all on the inside as well – if someone even so much as looks sideways at them they’ll be given the white vinegar solution and some newspaper!

Lunch – go outside and pick a fresh acid-free tomato and some basil.  Can you go into the garden and not pull a few weeds?  Now the entire (albeit small) vegetable garden is weeded and I’m thinking about what to plant in the space left by the lettuces that had bolted.

Lunchtime – avocado, tomato and basil on toast – will an avocado tree grow here?   Research of whether an avocado can withstand salt winds is done and the answer is, probably not.  What will I plant?  Broad beans, carrots, beetroot and some lettuce seedlings.

The postie (mailman) went past while I was eating so I collected the mail, read my new contact for work but drew the line at filling in some forms.  The idea that I would be working full-time somehow that triggered the thought that I have some air-points about to expire so I rang Thai Airways in Auckland to find out where I can go – I need to top up 2,000 points and then I can go to a Pacific Island.

Checked emails after I looked up the number for Thai Airways – there was a reminder that Paul Phillips was about to go live on U Stream so I decided to watch and do some knitting. That way I wouldn’t feel guilty about not cutting some patches for the quilt.

No Paula for some reason so no knitting – I’m writing this instead!

It’s now almost 2:30 hours since the earlier post so I better pull finger and start cutting!

And that, my friends, is another reason this is called Late Start Studio!