Saturday, March 26, 2011

Shoe of the week

Since finding this new confidence in my creative abilities, I seem to be more successful in them. Nothing at all has changed except in the way that I view myself and, I presume, the way that I sell myself (said the tart to the vicar).
It makes you ponder on reality though doesn't it? A very clear perception of your abilities, may be clearly wrong.
I briefly wondered there as I wrote that, whether I was not in reality short and dumpy, but in fact tall and leggy and bound for a career as the most youthful burlesque artist of my generation.Woman posing with feather boa Having conducted the reality check test with my friends and neighbours, it seems that I'll have to let that one go (, no dear reader.... tempting but far too predictable..)
I do know that indulging in anything creative helps me enormously (is it just my mind today or what?)  I am far more grounded when I paint or write or make..The habit that I am trying to get out of is of leaving those things as treats. My train of thought goes...I will do that after I have washed the doors down, cleaned the bathroom, chiselled the mouse droppings off the chicken kievs and coralled the flies into the downstairs toilet, that sort of thing. The flaw in this plan being that since I loathe anything that involves organisation or domestic chores, I never do, do those things that I love. This leads me to chase myself round and round in circles, kicking myself up the arse for being a bit crap but never, ever doing anything that remotely feeds my soul and I still don't have a tidy house.
But after 40-odd years of doing things one way, it takes an awful lots of training your mind, for it to even begin to think of doing things in a different way. .....
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Imagine for a moment, that my mind is facing oncoming traffic by driving a motorbike, on the wrong side of the dual carriageway in its underwear. It fears slowing down, turning round or stopping for fear of being flattened by a 'Mums Go to Iceland' slogan attached to a juggernaut. My current task is to hit the safety helmet of my mind with a mallet enough times that it begins to get the impression that it needs to lie down, then I scoop it up with a shovel and dash across to the hard shoulder where it can turn to face the right way. Thus far, that's all I can manage although I am assured that  motorcycle leathers and driving lessons are available for students in the advanced mind bending class (I bet we're all very glad that I'm managing without medication)
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So, now that you and I have fed my soul a little... where's that lasso? view details

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