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I’m on a quest. I’ve lost something along the way. Life has chipped away at the jewels that make life sparkle.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I believe deeply in truth that sets men and women free. But for a creative person like myself, the demands of life have robbed me of some very essential elements. I have ideas that I’ve jotted in a journal, but never completed, inventions that have not gotten off the paper, books that I have not written, photos that I missed because the camera was at home on my desk, sketches that have never become paintings, dreams that have vanished because nobody believed in them. In time, I have become like a machine, who does laundry, cooks meals, wipes poopy bums, loads and unloads the dishwasher, picks up dust bunnies, slaves into the night on money-making endeavors, scrubs the oven, gathers the trail of debris left behind by little people…the list is endless. Do I resent my kids? No. I just need more spoonfuls of creative completions in my days. Like art vitamins. There are too many robbers stealing, chomping, and snatching at the razzle-dazzle.

This morning at around 3am, Nathan, who sneaked into our bed, kicked me in the tummy and I could not get back to sleep. I put him back in his bed and decided to just get up, take a shower and start the day. I cranked out a little freelance job, then decided to pursue this quest. I found a video that made me cry:

The Beckoning of Lovely by Amy Rosenthal

Then, I had to ask, “Why the tears?” Part of the answer is that there is so very little simplicity in life, so very little spontaneity, so little follow through on dreams.

I’m dashing off to a meeting today, dragging the kids to Grandma’s house, and packing my camera just in case I see something wonderful, magical or strange. Spoonfuls of completion for the soul.

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