Ever since I was a kid I always wanted to draw. I always wanted to make things. I always wanted to be artsy and I never really understood why I was so obsessed with something I'm not good at. I'm not the artist in the family, my brother is. I'm the writer. Even when I got older and I was really into web and graphic designing, I was always better at web designing than graphic. I cant blend for shit lol. I know I suck at anything having to do with being crafty. And even now, I want to make charms. I want to make jewelry. I want to be better at graphic design. And even though for the last 3 months I've been attempting and everything being an epic fail I still wake up everyday wondering what I can do to improve it. Where did I go wrong the day before.
And sometimes it drives me nuts that all I ever think about is what I could be making right now. Why? Why is something I suck at constantly on my mind?
Martin and I had a talk once, about people who inspired us when we were younger. He had a friend who could do something he couldnt do and he had spent a lot of time with his friend trying to get him to do it and it just never happened but growing up, it became a goal for him and even now, til this day its still a goal of his. So I thought back to when I was a kid...
I spent a lot of time in the garage during the late afternoon. I spent a lot of time in there because my grandpa was always painting. And I spent a lot of time with him when he was. Bugging him, asking him random questions or just talking. I dont have a lot of vivid memories, but this is one of the ones I do have. The smell of oil paint, the sun coming in from the open side door, my grandpa holding his breath every time he painted the details. I remember after bugging him for MONTHS he finally let me paint the sky on something he was working on. I remember he cut up some wood pieces for me and my brother to paint too. If he wasnt painting something, he was making something. We still, to this day use a lot of things he made. His paintings are still up in my room and around the house.
He always inspired me to be creative. He always made things look so easy. And I wish he was still here, maybe I wouldnt be so stumped when it comes to creating things. And of course, the doll house he promised to make me before he passed away.
The discouragement tonight will pass, and I'll wake up tomorrow ready to try again.