Why I Suck at Being Creative

I am a writer. Writing is just kind of the thing that I do…when I’m motivated and inspired. I am a creative person but I am also, unfortunately and to my detriment, an incredibly lazy person. So, most of the ideas that I have in regards to creative pursuits other than writing are often thought of with great excitement, right up until I lose interest. And it’s not because I don’t want to do these things, it’s because I get frustrated about the fact that I can’t.

Last year, I bought myself a sewing machine. As a small woman with a big bust, I often find it difficult to find cute clothes in my awkward size. So I figured I would start making my own clothes, or at least learn the ability to fix the clothes I’ve already got. And I did…for a while. I make aprons and skirts and once I made a vest without a pattern. But that is as far as I’ve gotten. I haven’t done any sewing in months, and my poor neglected machine is sitting in the back room gathering dust. It’s not that I WANT to ignore it, but I have so little time and in order for me to create, I need to have time. Thus, my sewing has ceased.

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This year, I finally purchased a guitar, something I have been talking about for years. As a self proclaimed singer without a band, I figured the best way to create music would be to learn an instrument to accompany my vocals, since I know very few musicians I would be comfortable enough to ask to help me. I’ve had the thing probably six months, and I know two chords. I know, it’s a horrible effort! But every time I try to sit down and practice, something gets in the way, and I have yet another would-be creative outlet gathering dust. So naturally, last week I bought a red ukulele with the same intention of learning, just to make things harder for myself. Silly Amy.

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And then there’s the typography. As expressed earlier, I am a writer. Some people are blessed with the ability to draw or paint or sketch, and I love those people and envy them in equal measures. I can draw stick figures with disproportionate breasts and that’s about it. But I love words, the way they work and sound and look on paper, and I decided a few weeks ago that I would look into the art of typography. My ultimate goal would be to write short poems or sayings, write/draw them up creatively and sell them. You know how far that went? I haven’t even purchased a how-to book to get me started.

And then, of course, there is my writing. Blogs aside, I haven’t written in months. Again, time is an issue but more and more I realise it’s an excuse. I can make time. I write best at night, when the not so silent silence of my house soothes me and simultaneously thrusts me unceremoniously into a creative frenzy. And yet, my laptop remains beside my bed – yup, you guessed it – gathering fucking dust.

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I will make no grand claims here. I will not pretend that I’m going to take up all my creative pursuits at once and throw myself wholly into tackling them because that would be a lie. I won’t, and you all know I won’t. But I will tell you this; I am going to get out of bed, eat, shower and dress. And I am going to look at my guitar, and I’ll walk past it. And I will glance down at my laptop and then ignore it. And I will go out to my back room, take up my sewing machine and alter some dresses I’ve been meaning to fix for two months. I’ll start small and hey, maybe I’ll inspire myself to keep going. Wish me luck!

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