open and overflowing at the same time

it would be lovely to have one day just to sit in a sunny room with a large table and a sewing machine, with a stash full of fabric and notions, beautiful paper and sharp scissors. I could spend hours cutting up magazines and gluing paper together and throwing paint around. a day just to make stuff. mm.

it would also be lovely to spend a week simply stocking up my kitchen and experimenting with food. I want to learn to make sushi. I want to try making ice cream sandwiches and cheese crackers and soups of all kinds. I'm sure there would be lots of baking in there too.

and if I knew I could count on my brain to focus, I'd love a month of perfectly sunny days for spreading out under a tree somewhere, notebooks piled all over my picnic blanket. I'd write and doodle and plot from noon til night every day. who knows how many stories I might finish? (more likely, I'd start sixteen new ones, and forget all about half the poor unfinished things I already have in progress.

life gets in the way of easy, open days like I'm imagining. instead of spending time deep in the creative veins of crafting and cooking and writing, I read, I clean, I rush to work and back, and I spend far too much time soaking in this giant puddle that is the internet.

my realization over this past week has been: I don't like having so much free time to waste. I want to be busier.

grad school will grant me that wish, I expect.

and until that crazy dream becomes reality, I'll need to engineer my own busy-ness. sign up for things. make some schedules. expect more of myself. move the bar up a few notches. start waking up for sunrises (hint: don't go back to sleep, either). dig a deeper well of discipline. fill every moment.

none of the moments will ever come back again. you've got to stuff as much as you can into them while they're in front of you.