Unique Without The Scary

There is life after dial up, but it sure isn't the same. Opening and maintaining an online shop caused us to rethink our internet connection. Until I joined Etsy, I didn't do much with the net other than check my email every day and there was time to go have lunch as I waited for it to load. It took far too long attempting to set up a shop, and I do not wait worth a flip (of course it could also be the 9 million other things glaring at me from my "ToDo List" that played a part). The transition from dial up to high speed was supposed to be easy (oh wait, it was :o) The problem was me; technologically I was still puttering away on a 2hp motorscooter and heading straight up the on ramp to the Audubon...

I'm not entirely sure what I'm doing here, maybe I should just go ahead and say that now. I don't mean I landed on Squidoo by accident; that's deliberate. What I mean is, just about the time I feel like I have a pretty good handle on things technologically speaking, I hit a key and POOF! Everything I've typed is now in Japanese. Hmmm. Or maybe it's, hit the little x right up there in the corner you click to close only to find it meant delete this time. Well now, wasn't that just special? and so what if you actually remembered to save it sister...it's GONE! Aside from the jargon which is everywhere, are the options; yes I know I need to promote my shop but WHERE? How? I'll never figure it all out; best to take the Nike approach and "Just do it"...

So bear with me and be patient - I'm working on it. We've learned so many new things over the past couple of months, important things like dashboards exist in a number of other places besides the inside of your car; it is not necessary to say "excuse me" after you blog; threads are for more than sewing; there are nice people left on this planet; Google is a verb; and hey, I don't even ask "for what?" anymore when hearing the word for-um.

UPDATE: Somewhere in the month of June, I lost my tiny mind. How, you ask? I decided to build a website for our pending non-profit. Now I'm sure someone will ask how on earth I knew how to build a website (to which I would reply, "I didn't".) I am, however, learning how to accomplish this daunting task - one repentable word at a time...

Curious? It's at Http://www.epicfarms.com

Editor's Note: The site is under construction; I'm up to 20 or so pages - I think - but I fear that the disclaimer and construction notes will remain plastered on the home page until somewhere around doomsday (whereupon it won't exactly matter then, will it? :o)

My creative monster is officially out of the closet. It wasn't my fault, well not really. In a manner of speaking, the blame rests entirely on the fact that I've had cancer. You see I was an art major in high school - pencil sketches were "my thing". Of course such things were only for fun and not a responsible choice for a career (starving artists and all that). So when I became a responsible grownup, I closed the door on my creative self, and although I've done some crafting over the years it was completely under control.

I'm sure you noticed the tense there; was, as in past, as in not anymore. I work in a school system. Generally this allows some time during the summer to learn something new which was then used for gifts (my justification, if you will). Over the years, I've learned to crochet, make candles, do calligraphy, make jewelry, scrapbook, and make candy, among other things. Everything was going well, right up until last year.

I had reconstructive surgery last summer. Being fairly young at diagnosis (40) and active, I opted for reconstructive microsurgery using straight tissue (so I could keep my muscles where they belonged, thank you very much). The only downside to this decision was a much longer recovery time, which meant I would definitely need something to do...

I had seen some craft pages dedicated to the art of teabag folding a.k.a. kaleidoscope origami and was intrigued. This seemed an excellent way to pass the time during my recovery and would mesh well with my other crafts as gifts so I decided to give it a try. The closest I can come to a coherent explanation (and specific details remain unclear to this day) would be to offer a kind of analogy - I cracked the door to the closet holding my creative monster, just a little. The results were most unexpected; the door blew completely off the hinges, squashed me flat, and now my creative monster is on the loose.

I am still me (I think), but now I am possessed with these creative benders that trigger a kind of mad scientist mode where I run around muttering to myself incessantly. I don't understand what happened, not really (it was kind of sudden) but I am now constantly overwhelmed with the need to create things, all OVER the place. I've started sketching again, and I was scared when I started. It had been so long, what if I lost it? What if I just couldn't do it anymore? But cancer has made me realize that life can be much shorter than we expect, so don't waste any of it - ever. So here I am, my creative monster running amok, "masterpieces" all but piled to the ceiling - and knowing that if I create anything else we're going to have to MOVE :o)

UPDATE: As of September 2008 I have officially proven my hypothesis regarding the existance of AADHD (Artistic Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder) by adding watercolor painting to my repertory. Why? I really couldn't say, actually. Well, except that it was something I always wanted to try. Kind of like Pysanka; I always thought that was so cool. Hmmm, I do have some eggs in the refrigerator I wonder how hard that would be to do...