I’ve been feeling muddled. My mind and my space unclear. Too many ideas. Not enough time. Too many voices. Not enough silence. I often wake with the feeling that I’m running out of time. As if I’m not reaching my goals fast enough. I have to physically steel myself some times and remind myself that now is the only thing that matters. Right now. Because there are no guarantees for tomorrow.
I’ve started missing the silence of the quiet life I had in Indonesia. The space. The lack of responsibility to “be” something other than what I am. I romanticise it of course. There were facets of that life that were increasingly difficult. But there were things that were so wonderful. The simplicity, for one (the food, for another).
After I got back from Melbourne, almost immediately, I began to purge.
Purge my life of the unnecessary extras. The unnecessary belongings that I’ve been holding onto “just in case…” and the feelings I’ve been holding onto “just in case…” I’ve purged my blog reader of the blogs I no longer read and my Facebook friends list of the “friends.” I had a pretty terrible backlash from doing a similar thing earlier this year. So I stopped. But it’s so noisy online and whilst I enjoy a crowded room (after a couple of glasses of wine) I prefer a small group of friends, with good conversation, and enough time alone with my muddled mind.
I purge to create space to create.
I used to live to create. To create theatre. To create art. To create stories. To create adventure. I haven’t created much since before Bo was born. She was a great and exhausting creation, she took all of my energy… and it’s only now I feel like it’s coming back. And I’m ready.
Are you a hoarder (of things? of feelings? of friends?)… Do you love being surrounded by lots or do you function better with less?
Creative people need creative spaces. That much I’m sure. But working from home and juggling a balance betwen life, parenting, work and still having the creative energy necessary to create? That’s a balance that I’m finding harder nad harder to maintain.
I have a study. It’s a sun-room at the back of my house. But I don’t work there. It has a desk that is covered in unfolded washing and piles of fabric and boxes of old writing from years gone by. I don’t work there… I work here. On my rescued-from-the-side-of-the-road dining room table, surrounded by paintbrushes and water colours, magazines and books I intend to read (one day), wooden toys and chopping boards, crumbs and dust, inspiration and frustration.
I used to try to work in my study. But being home alone with a toddler means I need to work in the centre of my house. So I can balance short bursts of work in between pretending to be a dinosaur and having tea parties.
Where do you work? Have you found a creative life/space balance?
I just spent the weekend in Melbourne with some beautiful blog comrades. My travel buddies were two of Australia’s most exciting food bloggers/photographers, which made for a very exciting, very food orientated jaunt around Melbourne.
Whilst they photographed food, I watched people (and also photographed food, but that’s a post for another day). I’m constantly in awe of the physicality of human connection. Why we touch, when we touch, how we touch or don’t touch and the incredible story it tells. Our hands. The way we eat. The way we talk to each other, the way we laugh with each other, the way we love each other. I never have enough hands free these days to actually sit and watch and photograph strangers… it brings with it a great perspective. To look outward, not inward. To be a fly on the wall of a tiny moment in another persons life.
We can easily get bogged down in the bad and the sad and the ugly of life. But there is nothing more beautiful than human connection… as flawed and bumpy and confused as we are as human beings… we really are pretty beautiful creatures. Lumps and all.
This series of photographs was taken at the Night Noodle Market in Melbourne, at dusk.
I hope you have got a hand to hold in yours today. Big or small.