When I was in India, I was sure that I was going to come home and clean things up, clean things out, cleanse and purify and simplify and reinvent ... everything.
Its so much easier to see possibility everywhere, to think that anything is possible, when you're in a place that's magical and limitless. India had that effect on me, making me feel like anything could happen.
Then I got back to NY and the walls closed in again.
There was a time when I would have seen this as a gateway to inspiration and creativity, full of possibility and potential.
I thought when I blogged again last week, for the first time in a year - that i could kickstart my creative spark by engaging the blog and its audience (who have proved that they're still out there - thanks folks).
I thought I'd be able to dive into some projects - quick ideas, working through some fabric, some concepts - a push to produce. But really, it doesn't seem to work like that.
There's more, so much more ...
I thought that if I didn't commit myself to finishing tired old projects, that I could start fresh. New ideas, new ground to cover, new everything. And I think that it is possible. I like to think I brought back something of that unlimited possibility I felt in India. But ...
Right now I'm not feeling it. I'm not feeling a spark of anything. I feel the weight of obligation and a decided lack of inspiration in my life. I thought I could bullshit my way through a chirpy, happy blog post and show some exciting new beginnings by now. Not so much, though. And I'm kind of tired of making believe, so you get what's real - sorry folks.
If you had walls of fabric, where would you look for inspiration? Where would you start?