I’ve tried summoning creativity and talent.  It’s kind of like calling your dog from across the yard.  “Come on!  Let’s go!  I don’t have all day to wait on you.  GET OVER HERE NOW.”  I went to the craft store and bought two small canvases and some paint and decided just to see what would happen.  I’m not sure what I expected.  Maybe I would set up my work area and get out all my new and fun supplies and then get smacked with a genius idea.  Maybe I would find my true calling.  Who knew I had such an eye for composition?  How hard could it be anyway?  I’ve spent hours clicking through the pages of Art.com and can tell you that on several occasions I’ve said to myself, “Pppffff…I could do that.” 

Not. So. Fast.

I tried different brushes, sponges, newspaper.  I used colors out of the bottle and mixed my own.  I started over approximately three times.  The result: a craft project from elementary school, a staple at garage sales.  In fact, I described one of my attempts to The Hubbs by calling it “veiny.”   It was red and purple and bluish and the pattern made by squishing the newspaper into the wet paint made this sort of capillary-looking texture.  A statement piece.  Just the wrong statement for my taste.

At a time when “do-it-yourself” projects are all over the TV, internet and in stores, how is someone like me, craft-challenged, supposed to keep up?  I want to recycle, refurbish, reuse.  I want to know how to tie a pretty bow without referencing a YouTube video.  I want to turn an old chest of drawers into a book shelf.  I want to sew my own curtains and make pillows with odd birds and retro robots on them.


Maybe I should try making my own candles.  Coffee mugs?  Holiday wreaths!