"Anxiety is the hand maiden of creativity." ~T.S. Eliot

So I am theoretically an artsy/creative/crafty person. Theoretically. Maybe I’m “artistically inclined?” It’s sort of like the powers that be decided to give me all the interest and then forgot about the talent.

I don’t mean this in a self-deprecating kind of way. It’s kind of just the truth. I like “artsy” things and I’m always trying to get into creative things. I’m in art club and writing club. I list dance and theatre and photography among my interests on facebook. But when I actually try to do something artsy, I kind of fall flat. It just doesn’t work out the way I planned.

I actually kind of love photography. It makes me happy and every time I get into ‘photo mode’ I just feel better. It also makes me feel connected to my grandfather. He died my senior year of high school and he was an amazing (but technically "amateur") photographer. You’d think that I’d cling a little harder to something that made me happy before his passing and something that I feel strengthens the connection with him, yet for some reason I’ve gone ages without taking photos. I miss it, but for some reason I just haven’t taken the initiative and really gone out and taken photos. I don’t know why. Maybe that will be one of my goals over break. Besides getting my work done, which is a necessity and therefore doesn’t count, I’ve made goals for myself:

I am going to read. For fun. I like to read and it is Spring BREAK so I will take a break and read. And then I will go back to doing my homework.

I will work on being healthy. I don’t mean working out or eating better or whatever. I mean I will go to my various doctor’s appointments and hopefully they will make the necessary adjustments that will get me healthy. Being sick sucks. Being sick at school and not wanting to talk about it, but needing to acknowledge it because it’s not just a cold and isn’t just going to go away and it is going to affect my everyday life really sucks.

I am going to write. This is sort of like doing homework because I intend to write insightful, interesting blog posts (well, dammit, I’m going to try), but I also want to start writing in my notebook (OK, OK, it’s a journal. I know. But I don’t like calling it a journal and diary is even worse. Just let me call it a notebook. Or I could call a spade a spade and call it my moleskine and then the world will know just how pretentious/artsy-wannabe I truly am and oh my god this parenthetical has gotten so out of hand I need to stop. Now). Theoretically the notebook was going to be for all my musings, which would be insightful and lovely and could be published posthumously and everyone would marvel at my wisdom…. That and creative writing. Instead it’s mostly entries that start off acknowledging my failure to write regularly and then peter off into some sort of bitchfest of one sort or another.

But I digress.

This post was about my failure at being artistic. Maybe I just lack motivation? Or commitment? Or (as the progression of this post might suggest) focus?

OK, so here’s my brilliant plan:

In between work (ugh. It’s called Spring BREAK. It’s supposed to be a BREAK from schoolwork. Why do professors think BREAK is some sort of code for now-you-have-time-to-do-even-more-work? Fall and Spring BREAK [yes, I’m going to keep writing it in all caps] exist to give us a BREAK because someone, somewhere realized that this is when students need a BREAK or we will have a BREAK-down. Sorry, I just needed to let that one out. Anyway…) I shall:

1. Read my designated “fun books” (yes there are multiple books. I know break is only a week. I was feeling ambitious. And indecisive. Have you noticed the pattern in my bad life choices?). I’ve already started Anna Karenina (judge me all you want, but I like the Russians. My family has already made fun of me for the fact that Tolstoy is my ‘light’ or ‘fun’ reading. I brought The Aeneid to the beach, I don’t know why they bother mocking me any more, but it’s what my family does. We mock those we love. If you come to a family gathering and we mock you, congrats, you have just been welcomed into the family), and I also took out A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius from the library before I left, so we’ll see what happens…

2. Really try to write in my (calling a spade a spade) moleskine.

I really do want to write more. And not just because of all those literary prizes they sent out activities emails about (though if I write anything that I think has a chance, I’m going for it. I’m broke and need all the money I can get. The ego-boost and ability to write ”____ literary prize winner” on a resume would be kind of nice too…), but also because I often find myself either feeling motivated to write, but not having anything to write about, or having something to write about, but not feeling motivated to write. I figure if I make a habit of the writing, maybe those two feelings will actually coincide at some point and wouldn’t that be spectacular? I feel like I’m a decent writer. At least some of the time. I think I have potential. I might actually turn out something decent if I ever had time to take a creative writing class. If only, if only…

Once again, I digress. Where was I? Oh yes.

3. Take photos. This might be more for after break when taking my camera around with me everywhere I go will prove more fruitful because “everywhere I go” will be more than from the TV room to the kitchen and back again. Maybe I will ease myself into my intended photo-taking frenzy and start by taking faux-artsy photos of my pets. They are, after all, adorable. I’m starting to like this idea. I warn you now, if this happens, you will see these pictures. There will be a post, probably multiple, of pictures of my pets with comments about how cute they are. It will be annoying and obnoxious. Feel free to skim those comments. Or maybe you shouldn’t. Maybe I’ll sneak important information about life, the universe, and everything into the comments about my adorable pets. And then you will be left in the dark. After all, my blog is clearly something you must read through leisurely and without skipping. In other words: read everything carefully. There will be a quiz later. But back to the point (sort of?)…

You may not have realized this yet, but I am a future crazy cat lady. I mean, there’s a possibility that I will find the man of my dreams and get married and not be a crazy cat lady in the sense that my only relationships are with cats, but I will possess the other necessary characteristics. I will be crazy, I will be obsessed with my cats, and unless I go through a really intense identity crisis, I will be a lady, hence: crazy cat lady.

Right now I am an equal-opportunity crazy pet lover. In addition to my 2 cats, I have an insane dog and I am just as obsessed with her as I am with my cats. Sometimes more so because she is more outwardly affectionate and while having 50 pounds of panting dog pretty much sitting on top of you may not be the most comfortable or typing-conducive position in the world, it does make one feel loved or appreciated or something, whereas having the cat pretty much on top of my head licking my hair (it’s weird, she does it with everyone if given the chance. I cannot explain it and sometimes I take it as a sign of affection, but mostly it) just makes my neck hurt.

But where was I? Working backwards… working backwards… obsession with pets… artsy pictures of pets… PHOTOGRAPHY! RIGHT!

I’m not sure I actually have more to say about photography. I like it. I will try to do more of it. I may attempt to drag some of you lovely Mawrtyrs into bizarre photo-shoots because as big of a fan as I am of the artsy-picture-of-random-object, it is sometimes nice to have people in pictures.

It might be time to stop writing for the night… er… morning.

I am home now and therefore away from my mini-fridge. Back in 2001 when my family re-did our kitchen, our contractor made us promise not to put crap all over the front of our fridge. For the most part we’ve kept that promise. We have a little notepad with a magnetic pen and a few tasteful magnets. If there’s some sort of special occasion, we have recipes stuck up there for easy-access, but otherwise the fridge is mostly clean. I tell you this as an explanation for my current lack of magnetic poetry. I have 2 ½ tins worth on my tiny mini-fridge at school, but, alas, am magnetic poetry-less here at home. If I were feeling more creative I might attempt to generate some amusing poetry without the help of pre-printed magnetic words, but I have a feeling that anything I found particularly amusing right now might not be appreciated by others… or possibly even by me later on.

Right. Stopping now.

So I lied…

I just saw a commercial for “Booty Pop Panties” for the second time tonight. I realize I am watching horrible wedding shows on WE TV at 4 in the morning, but really? REALLY?! There is a line and that commercial crossed it. I need to stop watching late-night TV…