I’m not writing.
I want to be writing.
I should be writing.
I try to write.
But I’m not writing.
Not a false start. Not words on the page that I KNOW are garbage but need to be out so I can get the good stuff rolling. Not an outline.
I save multiple blog drafts with great titles and empty body spaces.
I sit with my beautiful journals and cheap notebooks and my fancypantsy pens that I finally gave myself permission to use and my thousands of ideas.
I wind up in tears with an icy ache in the center of my chest and blank page staring at me accusingly.
And I pick up my crochet hook and a ball of yarn.
The only thing I’ve been able to “focus” on as this unprecedented shit show rains down around us has been my crocheting – and I put focus in quotes because I have 6 separate WIPs (works in progress) that I am rotating among because even this can’t hold my attention for long:
- 3 scarves (2 crochet, 1 loom knit)
- 2 blankets for friends
- 1 blanket for my nieceling
I’m also working on a long-term donation project for a group in Pennsylvania that I joined ages ago and never got it together to donate to – I’m making bunch of baby booties and throwing them in a box, ready to ship when I’m given the go-ahead.
And amazingly, I just started a list with ideas for more. I was up past my bedtime the other night texting with Bronxie somewhat manically because I had so many new ideas of things to work on.
Yet somehow – if you asked me, I’d still tell you I’m in the midst of a creative slump, which logically, is utterly ridiculous.
Much like writing (when writing actually happens), crocheting and knitting culminates with something to show, literally. By the time I’m done, I’ve taken a ball of string and made a thing that is both pretty AND practical!
I AM CREATING SOMETHING. IT COUNTS AS BEING CREATIVE.
It counts even though it’s not the medium I “should be” working in right now.
It counts even though I din’t write the pattern I’m using.
It counts because I’m taking a raw material and manipulating it into something amazing, and I’m excited about both the process and the end result.
It counts because I’m honing skills that not everyone chooses to learn.
It counts because there are no limits on the bounds of creativity, in ordinary or extraordinary times, and because even I need to cut myself some slack sometimes.
*This post is part of a blog hop through The Kindred Voice’s Illuminate group in which participants write on a monthly theme and share one another’s work.
Please take a look at some of my fellow writers! Who knows – you may find your new must-follow blog!
Creativity in Decline (a poem) by Mia Sutton