Yeah, Gene Simmons might have been my father…and I finally graduated. Late bloomer, what can I say?

So…crickets chirping…here I am, Friday June 29, 2012. The weather is hot and dry and it feels as if the entire state of Colorado is on fire. Geez – I think about my fellow Coloradans constantly – especially those who have been affected by the wild fires and realize that my personal concerns are really trivial. Perhaps, even minuscule. Yet, they are mine and here I write.

This post is inspired partly from one of Allison Stanfield’s recent ArtBizBlog posts…”I am not a writer, yet I write”. I write because it feels right. HA – what is this called, this play on words? I’ve missed writing and I’ve missed potting.

I might in fact be writing this post because it’s been hanging over me for the past couple of weeks since I’ve felt the urge to blog and I confess that I haven’t felt this particular urge for quite some time. Other posts have been written merely because I felt compelled by self dictated deadlines. In fact deadlines that I have ignored, perhaps (un)consciously. Either way, something has caused me to continue to pay $$ for my domain and hosting for the past 3 years time that it’s taken me to complete a graduate degree in landscape architecture.

And, here’s my conundrum…I’m feeling a bit blue. I don’t know what or who I am right now in time.

blue – as in downward dragging….

Am I a lapsed potter, or am I an aspiring landscape architect, or am I both? I do feel proud that I completed a rigorous academic class load – probably the most difficult accomplishment of my life . YES gestating & delivering a baby vaginally was infinitely easier. YES – I really wrote that last sentence. I suppose this is why I feel conflicted. I went back to school to fulfill part of my life’s goals and yet despite the difficulty, maybe I didn’t appreciate what I had already accomplished. Is this normal?

We have moved back to our home where I had begun building my life as a potter – a space – that fit me and clay. NOW, it feels really small and foreign. Confining, if you ask me now. My husband reminds me that I have the Colorado Potters Guild facilities at my disposal, yet – I have a finite number of shelves. I understand the irony. 0 work = empty shelves. Lots of work = not enough shelves.

I know that once I start, I will not have enough shelves because I have, for lack of better terminology an unlimited vortex of creative space which concerns me. For most readers, I’m probably speaking in riddles. I totally understand this because I’m not sure that I get myself at this point in my life.

Have you ever felt unsure? What is your response? How do you cope?

Best,

~Cynthia