As a student, I always took great pleasure in any school assignment that involved "making stuff". I took great pride in the man hours I put in for soooo many assignments -- shoebox dioramas in elementary school, science project displays in junior high, group project posters in high school, presentation boards on Oral Sex in college (my teacher kept my visual aids...true story), and so forth.
The minute I'd have something to create, the rest of the world stopped and all that existed was the project that I'd have on hand.
Growing up, I was notorious for being a bit of a "tweeker" when it came to finishing any crafting project that I started. It didn't matter if it was for school or leisure either. I used to borrow mounds of books from the library (before the beauty of the internet) so I could try various crafting projects. I was a total dweeb, I know. One summer (when I was about 10 years old) I gained infamy for staying awake for nearly 48 hours sewing dolls out of my Mom's discarded scarves, robes, hosiery, and even underwear. My Mom must have thought I was on crack.
And yes you heard me correctly, I've made dolls/doll clothes out of my mom's silky panties.
John told me recently that he thinks my creativity sprung from being
Eat your heart out, Scarlett O'Hara!
To this day, I turn into a tenacious lunatic whenever I need to make something out of nothing and/or have a simple vision that needs to come to life. To John's dismay, I even completely commandeer school assignments that people ask me for help with. (Demi, do you remember the gumdrop school bus? Or the Flounder drawing?) You should see me when the boy cubs have crafty "school stuff" that needs to be done. Aside from reading/writing, I also used to watercolor and sketch to calm myself down. Growing up with nothing served me well.
As I ventured off into adulthood, creativity turned into something both stressful and therapeutic at the same time.
Mommyhood completely dissipated my ability to watercolor, draw, or even read in peace, so in more recent times, my creative itch has been soothed with party planning and *sometimes* scrapbooking. Even decorating Ethan's headstone brings me joy. It's one of the few things I have to look forward to. However, I'm also an anal perfectionist. This is not a good combination, my friends. And to add more craziness to the mix, I'm also painfully critical of my own work. I don't usually feel like I did a "good job" -- even when people tell me that I did "good".
There is always something that doesn't quite appease me -- bows aren't straight enough, stickers are crooked, Ethan's flowers don't look right, things are off center....
I turn into a drill Sergeant, Martha Stewart-esque, pain the ass when I have to get help from people too! John says I function like I'm operating a sweatshop whenever I need his help with the cubs' parties because I always bite off more than I can chew. And for the record, to my dismay the party budget he gives me sucks so I have to get reaaaaallll creative to cut costs. This only adds to my irritability so perhaps I do indeed treat him like a slave to get back at him. LOL! As stressful as crafting is, I can't think of anything that I love more than creating memories, emotions, and moments that will last a life time.
I will be entering a blog hiatus until I'm done with my art installation piece and SIL's Sweet 16 party for this Saturday. Tahoe pictures will be posted soon, though. :)