[L, diary, ephēmeris] 1) BLOG

"What you produce is not always sacred...What is sacred is the time you spend working on the project, and what that time does to expand your imagination, and what that expanded imagination does to transform your life."

 

The above quote came from the book my niece, Alison, recently sent to me:  

BIG MAGIC, Creative Living Beyond Fear, by Elizabeth Gilbert. 

 

When I read it, I immediately put down the book and opened the laptop in order to make a quick post of it to my home page, which I've begun using somewhat like one of the social media platforms I don't know much about, other than they are quickie ways to connect.

 

I have not used any of them because I'm not very good at quickie anything.  Generally, I have to labor to unearth what it is I want to say or accomplish; the lasting effects of a perfectionist mother impatient with young children's learning curves. Sigh.

 

However, ingrained ways can be modified, I'm happy to report, which is why I responded so strongly to Gilbert's observation about being creative...it is exactly what I persist in conveying every Saturday with whomever joins us for the afternoons of discovering our collectively innate creativity.

 

It is exactly what gave me the courage to post something further to this site's navigation bar category, SATURDAY ART. 

 

When I'd set up the new format, several months ago, I'd had my biggest hopes for showcasing the truly delightful artworks being produced by children and adults who swore they had no abilities for art.  But then the sheer variety of what we were doing overwhelmed me...I wanted to make short videos rather than still photos, wanted readers to feel they were participating, too...but all that took time to do right, and DOING IT RIGHT (NOW!) became a taskmaster I couldn't face.

 

So let me say right now that I'm determined to not let that old buggaboo--needing to be PERFECT--keep me from practicing what I preach to the others:  it's okay to not be perfectly skilled--ever. 

 

It's GOOD to make imperfect things because that's how we learn and grow and make our lives happier and more rewarding. 

 

Maybe not perfect, but as deeply rewarding as if it were. 

 

And who's to decide Chay Chay's little sculpture isn't perfect?