Demons

I think it's probably that everyone has a demon project.  You know, the project that needs doing, that you don't want to do, that maybe you never wanted to start in the first place,  and keeps getting put off because just thinking about it makes you scared and sick. 

My demon project has been with me for 20 months and involves a 1940 Effanbee Patsy/Patricia doll. Patsy needed shoes.  I could make shoes for her, I was told.  I can?  I'd never made shoes for anything before.  While thinking to myself, "are you sure?", I said out loud, "err, I don't know". Out came Patsy and her perfect tiny wardrobe of 1930's and 40's clothing.   All the clothing made for the doll's owner was also made in miniature for Patsy, too.  I felt no confidence in making Patsy shoes.  Not just any shoes, replica white Mary Jane's and replica brown Oxford's. Yet, somehow I went home that day with Patsy and the task of making her shoes.

Today, Patsy has gone home.  She has even gone home with two pairs of new shoes.  For so many reasons, this project took me far too long.  Even now, I doubt that they are good enough for her.  They aren't perfect, but they did receive my best effort.  Most importantly, I did do them.  I didn't think I could at all, and I did makes shoes. 

With "Patsy's Shoes" now crossed off my list of projects to do, I feel relief,  and a sense of freedom.  I'm now free to work on the next project of my choice, without Patsy glaring at me from across the room.

Taking Flight

Still plugging away at my list of things to do.  I just completed my paper bird from Marilyn Radzat's Flight of Fancy workshop. I wasn't going to share the finished project here, not viewing this project as an important one on my artistic journey.  This was just a fun project on my list, because this little bird made me smile and I wanted to have one swinging happily away in my workspace. 

While working on my bird today, I learned a lesson from my son. He was reading a book to me, and burst into tears.  I put down my paper, and asked what was wrong.  "It's too hard, it too long, I can't do it" was his cry.  After he calmed down, he finished the book and exclaimed, "I feel so much better now!".

I asked him why he felt better to have finished, and he told me, "because I like to have finished things, and because that means I can do something else that I want to do more now".

I find myself reflecting on his words, and how true they are even to to my life, and my tasks.  I have this huge list of things to do, dating back to last spring, some items having been on that list even longer.  I have this physical written list, look at it, and see things that should have been done last May, still not yet started.  Time passes, the lists get longer and I cry out, "it's too long, I can't".  

Now I have a finished bird, and I too say, "I feel so much better now!"  This finished bird is one small success, and one item off my list.  It's a bird that sings, "you did it, and now you can do the next thing!"