I'd be lying if I told you that I'm not completely over my head.
I'd be lying if I told you that I'm fucking terrified. So much is happening right now; most of it is what I've worked for my entire life. Just 'cuz I want it doesn't mean I'm not wondering if my parents weren't on to something with the regular 9 to 5's and the steady paychecks, though. The only stressor there was simply making the bills. Laying it all on the line -- the dreams, the sharing it all, the stupid need for validation for all that I do, and the need to connect with those I sometimes wish had found me first -- this all makes me a therapist's happy place.
So while I stress, because I am who I am and I do what I do, I also celebrate, because I am who I am and I do what I do. I'll keep this one short because it's 4:03 a.m. and I'm about dead on my feet from trying to cram Motherhood, Wifedom, Laundry-Service, Family Cook, Dog Walker and Wrangler, Homeschool Teacher, Blogger (Sometimes), Writer with a Book Being Published (OhMyFuckingGawd, Y'all!), and Artist into every single 24-hour period while wondering who the fucking hell decided 24 hours was enough. Want proof God is a man? It's right there.
Why am I celebrating while also very probably cementing my place in hell? (Don't worry. My handbasket is totally bad-ass and one of a kind. I designed it myself!) My friend, the very talented and always inspiring Britt Reints of In Pursuit of Happiness fame has asked me -- YES, ME!!! -- to lead a workshop at her The Creative Soul Retreat. She has an amazing line of teachers on the roster and I'd be pinching myself to prove this is real if I actually wanted to wake myself up. But since it is now 4:08 a.m. and I'm praying I wake up before noon (don't worry, The Husband can feed himself and Eliana in the morning since he doesn't leave for work until 2 p.m.) the pinching is out of the question.
Britt and and I are chatting in stolen moment FB chats to narrow down my session, but so far I think we may have unoficially decided on something along the lines of How to Make Really Cool Shit for Kind of Almost Free, or something like that. Basically, creatives are usually the last ones to bring up the discussion about how we are planning for retirement because we are still trying to figure out today, so having money in the bank to get artsy is usually not a given. I love prettying up recycled jars for artsy bottles to display and cutting my own bookmarks and artist trading cards from the billion boxes I save from our Amazon deliveries because I don't always feel like paying for the ready-made product. I also like to walk the forest I live in (for real, you guys) and pick up random wood scraps left behind when The Husband is busy cutting the tree-length wood we get delivered each summer into managable pieces small enough to stack and fit in the wood furnace we use for heat most of the year. Those I use as my canvas for the mixed media projects I love to pour mysef into.
There's also the doodles that only cost me ink and paper that get photographed and turned into my own craft papers for decoupage and greeting cards and bookmarks and coloring pages for my kid. Old and clunky beaded neckalces found at thrift stores and garage sales for next to nothing taken apart and incorporated into mixed media (Britt? Let's discuss mixed media, yes?) pieces and new jewelry pieces and bookmark decorations. Magazine pages ripped out and words cut out to wait in the Word Jar I keep on my desk until the next project I am working on calls for me to play Literary Go Fish.
I could go on, but it's 4:22 a.m now and I am going to throw in the towel and get my ass in bed before the sun rises again. I can't wait for The Creative Soul Retreat, to be in the same space as Britt and all who attend, and for the chance to celebrate the crazy we happen to have in common. Cuz I'd be lying if I referred to what I do -- or who I am -- as Sane. I'm okay with this. Crazy makes the Creative, I think. And I'm honored to be part of what Britt has dreamt up.
See you in Pittsburgh!