I want to do something creative. I really do. But rather than doing something, I sit & stew over details. Trying to plan it out. Afraid that I will do it wrong. Not knowing where to begin. Not knowing how to go with the flow. Instead of making something myself, spending hours pouring over things that others have done. Trying to be inspired. Knowing anything I do will never be that good. Making excuses... If only my scrap/art space was more organized, then I could find cool stuff to play with & then I would get a creative spurt. If I had this or that supply, then I could do something worthwhile. I drive myself crazy. I neeed to create something. I need to be productive. But i have forgotten how. I feel like i am in such a funk that I might as well just give up & forget about ever trying to create again. Why bother?!! I should trash all my papers & supplies & forget it. less stress involved in that.
I must say, i am beginning to understand why Van Gough went mad. Why so many great artists suffered from depression. (Not that i would dare compare myself with VanGough or any of the other greats!) The need to create something amazing. It's like an evil ulcer that eats away at your insides if you do not let it out. And once it is released, you feel good again for a while. But it always comes back. Clawing away inside again. Nagging. The inner critic is at it's best during these times. Telling me nothing i do will ever be right or good enough. That i will never be accepted in the scrapbooking world. That any art i might actually be able to create is amatuer at best. That I should not even try. I am so afraid that I will do it wrong. That I will mess something up. That others will see that I am a fake. That I really have no talent at all. That I pretend to be an artist, but i really am not. I've just gotten lucky a few times and was able to make something I was happy with.
How can I stop the madness? How can I overcome this? I wish I knew. I know that all of those things i tell myself are not true, but i don't have the strength to fight it most of the time. It's too hard.
But I can't stop the need. It's inside me. There must be a reason for that. Surely the creative desire was put in me for a purpose. I just have to keep trying. And allow myself to create bad art, if necessary, because all art is art. Even the not so great stuff. I need to keep on.