B is for BLADE: X-Acto X-Life No. 11, on an old silver-plated tea tray that lives outdoors atop my worm compost bin. Hmmm, maybe I should have saved this for X. Megan and over-achiever Keli, I’m looking at you.
Thank you for sharing your funk wisdom and protocols. I laughed, and cried a little, and felt deeply how truly kind you all are. It was helpful, and energizing. Some of my takeaways:
“Give it a little time and some sun; sun will break up a funk like nobody’s business.”
“Keep breathing through, keep walking, keep looking out and seeing that unexpected beauty, accepting that unasked for kindness.”
“Having something to look forward to helps me to make the transition from funk to functional. Be kind to yourself.”
“Bring the Funk! (Dance!)”
“I know from experience that once in it, you just have to ride it out to the end… usually they’re just passing through.”
“Every day is different, life is a wave, happily!”
“First I have to recognize The Funk. That always seems to take longer than it should.”
“Hang in there, I have faith in you that we’ll see more wonderful creations. And get that cat out of your beautiful, tiny house!”
“… I also find doing a kit, following someone else’s instructions helps me to, at the least, get back a sense of accomplishment.”
“Take this time to pause and reflect, but trust your instincts.”
So Wheelie and I went to look at the waves and do salt air aromatherapy for a while, to “take it all in and savor the goodness”.
I returned home to find this brilliant rendition of the Toto2 picnic basket kit that ShelleyB was kind enough to share. This changes everything! and we’ve been pinging ideas back and forth. She says the proportions and shape of this basket makes good storage containers, with or without lids, and wondered if a kit of three might be made available. Maybe a taller version, too, as a laundry hamper? I can’t wait to get out some graph paper and chart monograms.
Also, I have not forgotten or given up on the protea flower kit. Really.
I’ve been in a bit of a creative funk recently. It feels like Scarlett looks.
(Even though what she’s really signaling here is, “If I don’t make eye contact with you, you can’t see that I’m up here again, biting on the lead blade of the scythe and chewing the potted palms.)
My symptoms of creative funk include seeing everything I do as crap, simultaneous restlessness and fatigue, dropping things on the floor even more than usual, and a sense of dullness.
In a creative funk, even though many wonderful things continue to occur, like finding surprise! beautiful flowers on the doorstep, like magic… well, actually, unexpected kindness does wonders for boosting spirits.
I know to keep breathing through a funk, not push too hard, to listen. Go for walks. Take naps. Soon, I’ll issue the funk an invitation to tea.
I decided some arbitrary and not-too-difficult challenge practice might help, so I started ABChallenge: Take or draw a picture representing every letter of the alphabet, in order from A to Z. Nothing stupid like every day, but don’t be lazy. Why not do it with me? Then we’ll have something to talk about.
I finished the mudroom in the Sea Rise Pavilion remodel, meant to be a shrine for the pieces from Charlene’s Legacy that Keli gifted
me us. Here it is the late night of completion, with cruddy lighting.
As seen from the interior.
And through the open back door in the fresh light of morning.
Funk slumps happen to us all, I think. What do you do when you find yourself in one?