And When I Die …

I want the people who love me to be able to say, “oh she lived a wacky, loving, happy life”.

When I was growing up my favourite aunt was considered “eccentric”.  I loved going to her place.  She lived in an old farm-house in a small village outside a small town.  She was larger than life, loud, flamboyant and creative.  When I was small I would go and explore her house while the family would visit.  There were secret passageways between the walls, I spent hours creeping along the walls and finding new passageways.  As I got older I spent more and more time in her company and I would listen to her stories about faeries living in the trees, of how we should treat nature and her religious beliefs.  She believed she was a modern-day Druid.

When my daughter was born I would take her up to the farm with me.  My aunt was a master weaver and she was teaching me how to spin.  We would take the freshly shorn wool, carded it, spun it and died it together while my daughter played beside us.  I loved those afternoons.  I knew people who my aunt was eccentric, crazy, wacky but I thought she was wonderful.  Her home was a drop in centre for all sorts of people, artists, gays, cerebral people … it was like a melting pot.  Once my son was  born it became difficult for me to go visit there anymore.

My aunt’s funeral was an event.  Her ex-husband was the host.  It was packed with all sorts of people.  My mother clucked and clucked … by this time she and her sister hadn’t spoken to each other for years.  I mourned the light that had left this earth.

So this is the long way around to say I want to be that kind of person.  I want my creative juices to flow, I want to live a fun life.  My life has become boring for the past twenty years.  Work consumed me. I had some many dreams and they went by the wayside.  I wanted to design jewellery, create glass creations but there just wasn’t any time.  I lost so much time and I want it back.

So now it is time to fly kites, slay dragons, rekindle my passions and embrace my inner wackiness.  There is no more “tomorrow” … time is running out.

I want to make a difference in someone’s life and change my own.  Help me.  Give me any advice you have!

What’s My Talent

I wish I had some sort of talent. My daughter is the most talented person I know. Thirty years old and no matter what she tries to do she excels at. She could easily make her living as writer or an artist. She designs counted cross stitch patterns, sketches like a pro, cartoons, has an artist’s eye … she amazes me on a daily basis. My nephew is the same way. He is a talented self-taught musician and published author and does this in his spare time. So what is my talent?

I am searching for that special spark so I can develop it so it can burst into my flame. So far all I have accomplished is I’ve spent a fortune at Michaels and Joann’s Fabrics on paint, wool, patterns and fabric. But it just sits there. How do I find that spark to create something that is me? I am trying to paint this little ceramic house to put under the tree and just making a mess. Am I being too hard on myself? How do I start feeling that I can actually do something that I will be proud of? So far I feel like all I have done is create a “can’t” list, I can’t write .. I can’t draw … I can’t paint … I can’t knit .. I can’t .. I can’t .. I can’t.

How can I?