|I'm just a random girl who likes to start creating things but never finish them...|
I normally try to steer myself away from negativity.
How’s that for an opening statement? Working with so many talented individuals during my time at Cedar Point, I start to feel inadequate. Negativity slowly starts to creep into my moods. I try to stay positive.
It doesn’t always work, though.
It’s been ages since I’ve felt creative. This Spring and Summer have been wonderful in that regard. I have been writing. I have been drawing. I have been creating.
Then, I go onto Etsy or DeviantArt or even Spoonflower.
I know I’m not supposed to compare myself to others who either get paid for their artwork or love their hobby so much that they are constantly working at it. It’s hard not to compare, though. I’m just getting back into the swing of things.
I feel that my artwork is inadequate. My sewing is better than some on Etsy, but I have hardly any projects finished. I don’t compare my stories with anyone mainly because they’re mine: my characters, my world, my work.
I want to finish some of my drawings. I want to finish my sewing projects. I want to write my stories.
I just can’t seem to find the time or focus.
Time. Such an annoying commodity. When you have tons of it, you laze about doing nothing. When you don’t have any, you try your hardest to make it so you do.
I can’t focus. It was never a problem when I was younger. I could work on something all day back then. Now, I can’t. There are too many distractions. Work, internet, pets, chores. There are more distractions than those few, but those seem to be the most difficult.
I bought myself a tablet. Not just so I could work on scheduling during my downtime, but so I could write. I’ve written maybe two or three pages to my update of A Different Path. It’s not even in a section that I could even post. It’s further into the story than I’ve written before. I want to completely redo the second chapter of The Chosen Ones. There’s too much inconsistency and not enough description. There is a distinct difference between my old writing style and my new writing style. Definitely not a good difference either. My writing is like that of a middle schooler.
They say your harshest critic is yourself. It’s definitely true.