"Your crafting makes me mad," words said out of anger, and just to be said.
They didn't hurt, sting, make me cry.
The words rang true, because my crafting makes me mad too.
Short on space, time, organization, I find myself struggling.
When an idea strikes me, I find myself getting it out in a rush, before it disappears.
I don't have enough quiet time to sit down, and create to get better at gathering inspiration.
Couple days ago I wrote that I am not a quitter, and that is true.
I'm not quitting crafts.
I think I'm quitting the idea of being Martha Stewart, of being featured, of being recognized.
I'm quitting the idea of perfection.
I'm quitting struggling. That's something I've been wanting to get rid of.
I'm starting planning.
I'm starting organizing.
I'm starting to set deadlines.
Structure works for me, I crave it these days.
I'm starting living in reality.
I'm becoming a sponge, soaking in all the knowledge I can.
I'm getting out of my bubble. It's ready to be popped.