Here I am, 11 pm, laying in bed, listening to the rain pound on the window mixed with my cat purring, trying to fall asleep, avoiding writing what's obviously been in the back of my mind for a while. The same picture keeps popping into my head, the stand of green pottery at a gift shop I visited yesterday. A vase that would look so homey and beautiful with a bunch of daffodils in it.
I swear, I passed by that same vase at least 4 times. It called out to me. The more I studied it, the more I thought about each individual motion the maker performed to make this fascinating object. The ball of clay being turned into the shape of a vase, the strokes to scribe the markings, the brush adding a tinge of green to the top and bottom, the final look when it is completed. Did the maker take a second to admire their work? Or did they just push it aside quickly like an assembly line?
I'm finding the more I'm delving into jewelry making, the more I'm beginning to appreciate art, in it's many forms. I've never been able to understand art and it's purpose, but I'm slowly beginning to "get" it. It's a healing process. It's a way to feel satisfied. It's a way to make yourself feel like you matter, like you can contribute something to this world, even something as small as a pair of earrings.
I'm also beginning to realize why I'm so drawn to cooking and wanting to own my own bakery and restaurant. I want a job that I love, of course, but most of all I want a job that makes me feel physically and mentally tired at the end of each day, but makes me feel satisfied. As thankful I am that I have the job I have now, it only makes me mentally tired, and I hardly ever feel satisfied. I always relied on coming home and cooking to fill that void. It's doing a rather good job, but there is still that void. I can't fix it right now, but at least I'm beginning to understand what the void is and how to fill it.
I cooked today for the first time in a few weeks and it was normalcy. I was frazzled and rather worn down when I began, especially after visiting my grandpa in the hospital (he fell a few days ago and is still recovering) and also waiting for a phone call back from a friend. I began to cook, and all my troubles seemed to slowly melt. I didn't feel as stressed. I was much calmer and I felt more in control. The more I cooked, the better I felt. Both dishes I made turned out delicious (I will definitely share!) and have inspired me to cook more.
I realize that I've been rambling, all while the wind is picking up outside and it's raining harder now. I needed to get these things out, somewhere, anywhere, otherwise I wouldn't have been able to sleep. Now my mind can rest.
But first, maybe I'll go bake a cake.
And next time I'm at that gift shop, I'm buying that vase.