My life is busy in the best possible way. It is busy with people and projects. Some of the busyness is imposed from the outside, but every now and then I go on a creative bender and my life gets crazy-busy. (are there support groups for this??)
I homeschool my two kids and I cook and I scrapbook and I blog and I design and I just "do" stuff.
A lot of stuff.
As if I wasn’t busy enough, I also get major spontaneous bursts of creativity.
("Oh, God! There’s going to be bursting??" ~ from City Slickers)
It happens when I least expect it.
I’ll be thumbing through a catalog or a magazine and WHAMMO! – inspiration hits.
Along with the inspiration comes a surge of incredible energy and I literally cannot rest until I pull all the pieces together for my project.
I get this crazed look in my eye and start talking really fast (with my hands flying.. duh! I’m Cuban. =D) because I HAVE! AN! IDEA!!
My husband and kids mock me mercilessly. "Poor you. Tortured Artist." Eric usually decides it has to do with me being Cuban. He uses that as an explanation for most everything I do: "You know. . . my wife is Cuban." ("Ah, that explains sooo much.")
Sometimes I sort of "stew" on something for a long time, and then a timer goes off in my brain – Ding! And I’m off. (I know. I’m a little "off" anyway, but that’s not important right now. =D)
Okay. So this Pottery Barn Teen catalog arrives in the mail and everything in it just screams "over-indulged pre-teen" to me, but I thumb through it anyway and I find this:
A quick trip to the fabric store and 2 yards of broadcloth and 20 yards of ribbon later. . .
Did I leave out the part where I absolutely, positively needed that wall painted apple green first? (Thanks, Honey!)
Eric threatens to write a book.
"Living with a Tortured Artist"
"Living with an Artist: Torture?"
"Mi Esposa es Cubana."