Sometimes my creative energy is more like a leveling force: I feel the need for order and consistency.
My customers ask me: where are the new items you promised? We are anxious to see more of your stuff! And I blush and make more promises.
I vowed never to reveal too much of my inner life on this blog, but today, I am breaking all the rules. The truth is, I am a closet perfectionist. Yes, if every detail is not as I had envisioned it, my happy self recoils into a surly, withdrawn and lazy hermit.
Being a writer and scholar, most of my life has been spent using words to express myself. How easy, that! Words; my dear friends... They never need too much coaxing to flow onto the page in beautiful order and logic, nevertheless able to express the most profound and obscure of thoughts. But when it comes to pictures, fabric, gems... These things are so shy! They need attention, promises, whispers in the night to obey that beautiful vision I glimpse through the clouds of my subconscious. Sometimes they would rather perish in a rebellious fit of self-destruction than bend to my will. Oh, you breathless things!
I am going to make the most gloriously imperfect ring I can think of; I am going to let it emerge all on its own into its being. I will call it "The Perfectionist's Nightmare", because it is usually your worst fear that will cure you of fear itself.