Creativity is Essential

It’s early on a Monday morning, the skies are gray and the rain is a gentle and constant pitter patter outside my window. The coffee maker has gurgled its last and I can smell the aroma of what will be my first cup of the day.

Who would have thought that quiet mornings could be so comfortable? I’ve always been a night owl, staying up half the night when I have a project on the go, unwilling to give in to sleep when I’m in a creative mindset.



Since my move I’ve been plagued with back pain and sciatica, which has made standing, and eventually sitting, difficult. I’ve been forced to find the comfort of my bed earlier than was my habit. There is something to that old saying…early to bed, early to rise.

I love being inside, all cozy and snug, nowhere to go and nowhere to be, as I listen to the rain. The gardens need this gentle soaking, more than the occasional harsh downpour we’ve experienced this summer.

It’s been just over two months since I moved, and I’m feeling restless and out of sorts. I think it comes from frustration, from not being able to do the things I want to do.

The gardens were overgrown with weeds, the perennials gone wild. I knew exactly what I wanted to do, but bending and such has been beyond me. At least I have my potted containers at the door, though they have been looking a bit unkempt of late, from neglect I assume.

I did finally get my drapes hung. I love those drapes with their flowered print, and they give the room some warmth and a nice spot of colour. I had yarn, saved from the purge of craft supplies at the other place, and have made myself an afghan in lovely shades of cream and dusty rose.

That handmade afghan, and my paintings on the wall, along with all my bookcases have given the new place a feeling of home, and I am happy here…but….

I think my restlessness comes from not being creative. I have a small worktable but it’s covered with things I need to deal with before the space is free. Drapes I’m not going to use to be returned to my daughter, new knobs for the kitchen cupboards that I need washers for, pots I bought for the window sill that I never got plants to fill, and a few things I need to find spots to store.

This table is my work space for anything other than writing, or the crocheting I can do while sitting comfortable in my chair.

When a friend came by the other day and asked if I could make her sister’s kids a couple of crocheted hats, I jumped at the chance. It only took me that evening and a bit of the next day and the job was complete, so now what?

I need to write, but told myself this summer was all about editing. Well, you know what?

I’m sick to death of editing. I want new characters, new conflicts, new stories, and I’m going to have to wait. NaNoWriMo, National Novel Writing Month is in November. If I plan to participate, and I do, I need to heed the lessons learned from last year.

Last summer, a friend from my writing group who writes fantasy, challenged the group to write a story from a prompt she provided. I managed to complete a short story and found it fun, writing out of my genre. I decided to try a novel that involved altering time. I was about 20,000 words into it at November last year and set it aside to write my NaNo novel.

Needless to say, I’ve never written another word of that story. I don’t want that to happen again, and given everything that’s going on can’t be sure if I start a book now, I’ll complete it by the end of October. So, I’m editing. ****

It’s all Pinterest’s fault. I have boards of art inspiration, zentangle, gifts to make, and knit and crochet. I’m inundated with inspiration and need to pick one project to try. I don’t have the space, or the energy, to have multiple projects in the works at the same time.

I don’t know what I would have done without the blog. It’s provided me with a forum for writing, and an opportunity to be creative. I just hope it’s been entertaining.





I’ve gotten into a schedule of Monday-Wednesday-Friday when my intent in the beginning was to post only on Wednesday. Midweek Musing, should have known I couldn’t leave it at that.

Thanks for being there.