Childhood, revisited.

     Yesterday I revisited my childhood by spending time in the neatest place in the whole world. I volunteered at Kaleidoscope with Alternative Breaks, and now I'm itching to create something. Kaleidoscope was a wonderland. The entire time I was dying to ditch all responsibility and create anything and everything I could come up with. As a little girl I adored using my creativity. I was crafty, I was imaginative, and I was full of energy and enthusiasm. The result of this was that my room and eventually my house was full of things I had created. Granted, none of them were particularly excellent quality... I didn't have a hidden talent for art, after all. But I loved it, and I still do. I only wish I had more time to be creative, but on my own time. I would hate being a design major... I would resent being told what to create, when to create it by, and then have it mercilessly judged and assigned a fairly arbitrary grade. No thank you. I'd rather be crafty and give it as gifts, or be crafty and make something useful, or just be uselessly crafty for kicks.
      Maybe one day I'll be a stay at home mom and have gobs of time to scrapbook and sew and quilt and knit and embroider and craft and whatever else my creative little spirit latches on to. The problem is, I'm horrible at finishing a project I begin. The fatal flaw. For now I'll stick to creating food. Useful, tasty, and generally necessary. I've got a project I've been mulling over for awhile for my mom's birthday, but I have yet to actually create it. I told my sister we should do it together. I've never actually done a project with another person, so we'll see how this goes. For now I'll settle with patching up a giant rip in my Guatemalan bag and then talk myself into doing some homework. We'll see.