I used to scrapbook a lot. I have every scrap booking tool, machine you could ask for. Several years ago our basement flooded with four feet of water. It destroyed hours, years and hundreds of dollars worth of memories. Since then, I turned to blogging which is less messy, less expensive, but not as creative. A friend of mine asked me weeks ago to do a project for her. There is nothing I enjoy more than planning a party. It was the perfect opportunity to dive into my craft closet and unleash some creative energy. My family has temporarily been abandoned for glitter and hot glue. Since I don't have an actual craft space (yet), I've delegated our bedroom to the job so I can simultaneously rant at the television while working on my project without disturbing my husband. I've been burrowed in my bedroom every lunch hour and evening surrounded by paper, scissors, glue and such. My bedroom floor looks like Times Square on New Years Day. Just so you know, I create just like I cook
which means, in the end it all works out, but the middle looks like a huge mess. Methodology isn't a gift I possess. Creativity and orderliness doesn't work for me. I prefer to create or decorate in private, because there is no rhyme or reason to how I arrive at the final results and to be honest I get very embarrassed by the chaos of the process. When I'm creating or decorating I go to an unknown place that has rabbit trails,is filled with trials and errors, with a dash of unconventional thrown in.
Eventually, I get everything as it should be but the process isn't pretty. My husband calls it my Zone... Once I go in, I'm not coming out until it's done. Move over or be mowed over... Your choice. This afternoon during lunch I decided I needed to pull out the big guns
and dug through the basement for the tried and true glue gun. FYI, glue guns are similar to glitter in the sense that it's the herpes of the craft world. It's the gift that keeps on giving long after the party is over. I zoned out with glue gun in hand, giving no care to the mess that ensued. When I came out of the craft
fog, I had spider webs and blobs of hot glue everywhere. Upon arriving back at work, I ran my fingers through my hair to find I had clumps of glue still on my hands and nails. Sitting at my desk as I peeled the glue off my nails, I thought about the mess I'd left at home. I think I can get the glue off the furniture... It came off my nails okay. Much like Scarlett O'Hara " "I'll think about that tomorrow," and "...tomorrow is another day," When I got home from work I brought the project into the kitchen so I could
simultaneously burn dinner and work on the project. Finally, late last night the majority of it was complete and I was happy with the results (of the project, not how the house looked). After being out of the zone for a while, it was nice to be back, even if it buried me knee deep in glitter.
which means, in the end it all works out, but the middle looks like a huge mess. Methodology isn't a gift I possess. Creativity and orderliness doesn't work for me. I prefer to create or decorate in private, because there is no rhyme or reason to how I arrive at the final results and to be honest I get very embarrassed by the chaos of the process. When I'm creating or decorating I go to an unknown place that has rabbit trails,is filled with trials and errors, with a dash of unconventional thrown in.
Eventually, I get everything as it should be but the process isn't pretty. My husband calls it my Zone... Once I go in, I'm not coming out until it's done. Move over or be mowed over... Your choice. This afternoon during lunch I decided I needed to pull out the big guns
and dug through the basement for the tried and true glue gun. FYI, glue guns are similar to glitter in the sense that it's the herpes of the craft world. It's the gift that keeps on giving long after the party is over. I zoned out with glue gun in hand, giving no care to the mess that ensued. When I came out of the craft
fog, I had spider webs and blobs of hot glue everywhere. Upon arriving back at work, I ran my fingers through my hair to find I had clumps of glue still on my hands and nails. Sitting at my desk as I peeled the glue off my nails, I thought about the mess I'd left at home. I think I can get the glue off the furniture... It came off my nails okay. Much like Scarlett O'Hara " "I'll think about that tomorrow," and "...tomorrow is another day," When I got home from work I brought the project into the kitchen so I could
simultaneously burn dinner and work on the project. Finally, late last night the majority of it was complete and I was happy with the results (of the project, not how the house looked). After being out of the zone for a while, it was nice to be back, even if it buried me knee deep in glitter.
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