Yesterday, I was grumpy all day. I woke up in the morning knowing my time was to be spent sewing slits to finish a tapestry. Alright, I will confess it: I HATE sewing slits!! As I weave, I try my best to avoid leaving slits, and I sew the longer ones as I go, but it's not the longer ones that I dislike sewing up, it's all the smaller ones. Hours I can spend, sewing up little slits. I know that I even sew slits that don't necessarily need sewing, because I want my tapestries to last a looooong time.
Anyway, knowing that was my work for the day yesterday (and today, and likely throughout this week and next, as I have two to do) made me exceedingly grumpy. It was the kind of grumpy that I get when I know I will not be doing anything creative that day. Sewing slits is not creative. It is necessary, but like many necessary tasks for art creation (like prepping canvases or winding skeins) it is not creative. It is mindlessly boring.
By the end of the day, I noticed that my husband and the dog were avoiding me. Even I would have preferred to be in another room, away from myself. So I sat down and did a quick sketch in my sketchbook of my grandaughter. That half-hour restored me! Grumpiness cured, joy back in place.
I know this about myself: if I am not able to create, even in a small way, I am not a happy person. The creative urge in me is so strong, it is 'who I am.' It does not matter that I am not creating anything Great, a small sketch will suffice. I just have to be allowed, by myself and by the world, to use that urge on a regular basis, or we all will regret it. Just sayin'........