Some Thoughts On the Downfalls of Being a Creative
Two facts that apply to me:
- I'm a Virgo, which means I am a perfectionist who likes to have things a certain way, namely tidy. When this are in chaos, so am I.
- I am immensely scattered. I realized more often lately that I can't focus on anything for a long time.
Make coffee. While it's brewing, notice the vacuum still sitting out from yesterday and decide to vacuum the kitchen while it brews. Finish vacuuming, leave vacuum sitting out because the rest of the house still isn't done. Go sit at my art desk.
Notice my phone battery is low, plug it in.
Check emails. Feel the overwhelming need to delete emails I don't want.
See painting in progress from the night before. Sit and ponder painting for several minutes. (I believe this is often referred to as "zoning out" or 'daydreaming.") Decide to get black paint and go over a part of this painting. Add a few more things.
Coffee maker beeps. Realize I forgot about coffee. Go to kitchen and pour coffee. Open fridge to get out creamer and a container of cottage cheese almost falls on me.
Decide to rearrange the insides of the fridge for my future safety. Finally remember to put creamer in my coffee. Put creamer away and feel a ridiculous amount of satisfaction at how clean the fridge is. Turn around with coffee in hand, ready to go paint some more. See vacuum. Uh oh.
And so it goes. With little things (I can never clean one room at a time) to big things (I still am too scattered to make a go of owning my own business because I am too overwhelmed at all of the moving parts involved and how I can never seem to get any of it past the planning stage).
Is this a disorder? The sad inevitability of modern life? Or just, well . . . me?
In business, in blogging, the mantra is "narrow down," choose a niche, specialize. I've tried, damn it, so hard. These phrases strike fear into my heart. How do I choose just one precioussss? How do I force myself to choose to just work on one painting until it's done, to work on my novel only, to bid for freelance jobs, to create a portfolio, and on, and on, and on...
Instead, I just say "fuck it" and just do whatever the hell I feel like and go around in endless circles of new ideas and shiny things syndrome.
And yet- I still want to make it. I want to find the way through this maze of life, break out of ordinary and connect myself to the world. Every day I fight those demons that are trying to keep me down (trust me, there are more than just the lack of focus, so as an added bonus, I get to have trouble settling on just one demon, too!)
So it's baby steps, one tiny bit of progress on a thousand things. Eventually I finishe something. Eventually I get one piece of my business idea mapped out. Eventually I put the damned vacuum cleaner away.
And I wonder, are the successful people on Instagram truly as full of purpose as they seem to be? Are those six-figure entrepreneurs kickin it on the daily? Are the travel the world laptop lifestyle gurus running around the globe spewing out content and business magic dust while grabbibg fistfuls of cash?
Is any of that possible?
Is any of that true?
I, unfortunately at this moment in time, don't have an answer. But I do know I consider myself an artist. I consider myself to be a decent writer. I have a decade of experience trying to make a go of being a creative entrepreneur. (Failures have abounded! I promise!)
And I haven't given up yet.
So tomorrow I will sit at my desk with my trusty cup of coffee after I got to work at my day job. I will ponder a painting or two. I will rearrange art supplies. I will tidy a stack of clutter that could probably wait. But I will make one small baby step toward my goal of working for myself.
And that will be good enough.
Just don't let me look at the dust on the bookshelf, or my Virgo self might decide she has urgent, life sustaining cleaning to do.