Among my group of friends I am surrounded by relentlessly creative people. People who bake beautifully, and turn grading papers in a work of art, and others whose fashion sense is so well articulated I can only imagine the unending variety in their closets. They see colors and shapes and imagine the possibilities of their convergence.
But I didn’t get that gene, and that’s okay. I don’t look at old window frames and see a back-splash; I’ll never enjoy refinishing a vintage table. I don’t like “crafts.” I’m a faithful believer in rules, a recipe-follower, a project manager.
Still, there are times when I’m forced to resolutely tackle a project that would otherwise make me squirm uncomfortably in my seat. Wedding decorations for one; as I mentioned in a previous post, you are bombarded with DIY guides on every wedding site. The thought of gluing hundreds of coffee filters to a Styrofoam ball made me anxious–but my mom and brother could see the vision and execute it beautifully. Adobe Creative Suite also makes me sweat: A call for a new homepage image at work had me wringing my hands as I tried to manipulate Photoshop to my whims.
There reaches a point when it makes much more sense for me to politely ask any number of ridiculously creative people in my life to oversee the task, or to head over to Etsy and pay a small business owner for their time. It’s not about giving up–it’s about recognizing where my strengths lie.
So, imagine my surprise when I decided to start an art project involving toilet paper rolls and an obscene degree of glue. It languished in our hall closet until finally I promised David that it would be complete by January or bound for the garbage.
And here it is. It’s not quite done yet–it needs a stabilizing element (like an old door, or a smart piece of plywood) because it’s too delicate to hang on the wall alone. I plan to spray paint it on a warm day, but for now I can breathe relief–that one is ticked off the list.
Any ideas for what might go behind this? Something to give it color?