there's always so much i want to do in evenings after work, and i think that's why i get so stressed like last week; i cram a days worth of creativity into 4 hours. i'm not really complaining, per se; i'm so so lucky to have such a steady job with a decent pay and the opportunities and lack of responsibility to be able to persue these creative ventures. i'm sure some people reading this roll their eyes at my entries and think me a spoilt brat, and i suppose they wouldn't be wrong, really. i've always been pretty lucky, able to chase after my dreams and my ideas no matter how strange they may be.
but i feel restless and needing to do so much more. there are a ton of ideas and images in my mind that haven't even started to be developed; i always feel i should be focusing on the things i'm already doing, polishing them, refining them. it's a story that's been spoken of many times before, none of this is new.
still, i'm looking forward to going home and working on my zines at least. i need to dig out some more to read.
C & i wandered through the art store on friday night, and i'm craving paints to play with. paints & pastels & pencils & chalks of all colours and shades; and last night i was rearranging my room and found the rubber stamp collection my ex-friend gave me. some of the ink pads still had ink in them which surprised me; now i'm longing to colour everything i can get my hands on and stamp the most subtle of images into the grain, highlight them with embossing powder heated up. ink pads in the shape of cats eyes, their colours still as bright as flower petals in spring. markers that are faded but can be replaced (oh back to school sales, how i love you), glitter dust in the smallest of vials. i am aching to create something beautiful, something full of colour & thoughts & images; but only from 5:30-9:30. a life full of creative ideas pushed into 4 hours in the evenings. and you wonder why i live for the weekends so badly.
nevermind. i'm being silly about nothing.
welcome to the real world.