I almost entitled this whole blog “It’s Not Perfect, But…” because I say that phrase every. single. day. I would say it more often if I spent more time talking to adults, but my kids don’t care (or hear) if something is perfect anyway. But me? Yeah, I care. A lot. I hate when things are not perfect. So if you could see my house (my hair, clothes, lawn, etc.) you you could maybe understand why I am continually a bit frustrated.
This is not a good quality. I wish I wasn’t like this. When I was younger, I didn’t care about how my room looked (or my hair, my clothes) so I am continually surprised to find how much small things bother me.
It’s a big problem now that we have kids. They like to play outside in the dirt. And why shouldn’t they? They are boys! In the dirt! It’s a party! And now that Ty has built an amazing swing set complete with a tower and a slide (5,000 husband points), they are in heaven.
And sweeping is futile.
But I’m learning to let this go. Or at least, I’m adopting a visual version of humming to tune out an annoying sound. Keep your eyes on the horizon and you won’t notice the crumbs creeping along the edge of the couch even though I just swept this morning.
I haven’t been writing as much. I’m sure you all have been checking twice a day to see what I’ve been doing and my profound thoughts on life, politics and religion. But as they say in the communications biz, “show don’t tell”. So, this is what I’ve been up to. It’s not perfect but I’m trying to not let it stop me.
For those who don’t feel like clicking the link (I understand) I’ve opened a little Etsy shop to try to sell some of my art. I have several other pieces I haven’t posted yet because I am in the process of having them printed. I like my art and I’d like to keep some of it on my wall. But I also want to make some money so…
I’ve created a new Instagram account for the shop and I’m learning so much. I’m learning I really have no idea what I’m doing, but I also like creating new things. I’m chanting Jon Acuff’s book Start in my head to keep me from giving up. Because I’m not perfect at this. I’m not an expert. Honestly, I feel so phony. But what else am I going to do? I won’t get better unless I try. I won’t get better if I hang on to my need for things to be perfect.
My sister photographed some of my paintings this morning so I can have them printed. I cringed looking at every single one. I see all the flaws immediately. I’m definitely an amateur, but I just keep telling myself that everyone is an amateur at everything to start with. For example, baby brother is an amateur at eating with a fork. But he is determined. And I am too.