My Muse

Deep down, you and I can't be that different. How we gain our inspiraiton, express our emotions into our craft, or how we dig through our supplies to find just the right piece. I felt that you would have an appreciation of the effort required to create such beauty. I thought I would throw caution to the wind and bring a real side of me to you.

My Muse

The weather has been cold, and my muse has packed up and moved on south. This time of year is the worst for me and finding my creative vein. I just want to curl up with a good book and wait for spring. I sit at my craft table looking for inspiration, finding little and forced to create from the chaos that is my life.

I use to have the spare bedroom of the house set up as my crafting domain. I could close the door, turn on my music and get lost for hours. Now, I have been displaced - maybe that is it. Due to the life of chaos that I lead, add in a troubled nephew, and a jilted best friend with no where to go, I have no room. My spare rooms are now in use, and I am downstairs, in the wide open, with no doors, and no privacy. I think my muse, the fussy diva that she is, liked the coziness and the privacy of the spare room.

Across my craft tables, the cats now sleep. Beads and baubles getting stuck between their toes, and dropped throughout the house as they preen. The dogs chase the cats thru the house in good humor, ending up in a spray of supplies across the floor........ *sigh*

Our show schedules have slowed to a crawl, one here, one there. I sit at my table and stare, slurping on my coffee and trying to justify why i am not organized, or why I am not producing new product. I look around me, trying to make sence of the lack of organization, look out the window at the dim summer sun and shudder.

I have attached an image of my craft room and I have to laugh, for what would I gain by crying? Messy mascara :)