Wednesday I had to stop at the fabric store to get something to fix the boyfriend's dobok. I took a quick look around, as I didn't have a lot of time and another errand to run.
I didn't see a single thing that inspired me.
Usually I'll see at least one or two things that say "hey, play around with me!" or "I want to be something!". Usually its a bunch of things that will point themselves out and give me a bunch of ideas.
Not this time.
I didn't see a single thing. I was not inspired at all. No sparks of creativity hit me, and I barely even had a "ooh, that's pretty, I want that" moment.
This depresses me to no end.
Its a reminder at how fickle creativity can be sometimes.
I sometimes wonder if I'm asking myself to be too productive, that I'm asking too much of myself. I still haven't come up with a good answer for that, either.
I pulled out the pointy sticks and some cotton and started something yesterday. I don't even know what it's going to be - I just needed to get my hands moving.
Maybe once my hands are moving, my brain will follow.