enfinblue's Bluey (credit to Fifi for the nickname!) Diaryland Diary

"I am seeking, I am striving, I am in it with all my heart." -Vinc3nt V@n Gogh

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You have to start.

Oh bad cramps. Sometimes I wish my uterus would just fall out. Oh no - not really.

I woke up feeling very calm this morning. I woke up at about 6. There was light peeking through my bedroom blind and I adore the view of trees and red brick that I have through my window as I'm lying in bed (plus plenty of blue sky), so I opened the blind and sunk back on my fluffy white pillows. The spare room, which is basically at my back as I'm in my own bedroom, faces east, so I opened its door and closed the bathroom door so that I could see a brilliant channel of light aiming down the hallway to the living room as I looked west from my position in my bed in my bedroom, facing north. Got that?

Anyhow. I liked it. The light was wonderful.

I slept for another two hours, intermittently, and then I got up.

As I noted, I feel very calm and relaxed today. As I drifted off to sleep I was reading the Artist's Way, which I haven't much this week (though I haven't missed a day of morning pages since the beginnning of Febrary, which I think is great). I was reading the part about how anxiety about what will eventually happen (i.e. the "big" goal) can stop people from being creative. I completely related to this. I can always find an excuse to not draw or to not work on my Florence book. Laundry, cooking, sweeping, running. You know, the usual.

What has been bothering me lately is that I don't have an end goal in this creative life revision project. I have a very vague vision, but it doesn't make sense.

My very vague vision sees me in Italy, possibly in Rome at first, learning Italian. Then, or maybe at the same time, I would be learning some sort of a hand craft. I am very, very good with my hands. I always have been. I also have an ability to do very fine work, and I can focus for long stretches of time. Somehow I have the feeling that I would have been a lacemaker or a hand painter of china in another century. I could see myself apprenticing to make paper or books, and having a knitwear design business on the side.

At the same time, I have all of this education and experience in quantitative modeling. I wonder if, if I were to switch to some kind of a traditional crafts pursuit, I would be able to leave all of that behind. It's such an efficient way to make money, plus I like to solve problems.

I've been thinking a lot in the very recent past about my job. I am starting to get itchy feet. In November it will be three years. I have another really big project that I want to spearhead, but once that is done - say in a year - I need to figure out what my next challenge will be. This isn't about pride or ambition, but rather about opening up other opportunities for myself in other areas. I've made great strides and gained respect of important people in the last couple of years. If I keep that up I will be on track to have my pick of jobs.

The point though is to parlay that experience into opportunities to do something else. There still is the diplomatic service, but that, as usual, seems like putting out a match with a fire hose. I would have to move all around the world and put in tons of time in Ottawa in order probably to get to Europe for a couple of years in my career. Not that that would be bad, but I don't even like the work. I'd rather be the wife of a diplomat. :) That would be cool, no? Doing art and learning languages in countries in which you didn't have work rights? Of course, you'd also probably frequently be stuck in a compound part of the time.

Nahhhhhh...

I don't know. It seems as though there must be a direct route.

One very realistic option for me would be to apply for statistician and labour economist positions in Europe. There are lots of such analytical jobs at the O3CD, for example. But would I really want to up and move to Paris for the long term? Probably not. The jobs are usually contract jobs for at least two years, as well. I really want to be in Italy. Unforch, the U ENN in Rome seems an impossibility. Canadians are oversubscribed there and I don't have a background in development or food science. No, that's not the entry way.

Well, I'm rambling again. I'm sure I'll figure it out. I have to remember the key facts about myself, and trust that it will work out. I'm educated, smart and have solid work experience. I'm adaptable and learn quickly. More important than any of these things, I'm intensely conscientious and hard working. Genius is 99% perspiration, as they say. I know this to be true. Hard work is always more important than raw talent/ability.

I guess I'm writing this entry to tell myself to stop worrying about the end result and to trust that if I take small steps all of the human capital that I have will join in and help me to make it to whatever undefinable goal is out there.

But the thing is that I have to start something. Even if completely unrelated to what I want to do or where I will go, I think the point is that starting some creative activity, any creative activity, is what starts the ball going. I need to follow through on my weekend projects by drawing and writing a bit. I can do that. I've started in small steps in the last couple of weeks. I need to not let that engine stall.

Well, that's good. I still feel quite relaxed. I have to go out today and buy new walking shoes/loafers. My lovely Italian loafers split because of my bad foot. I sat down and sewed them up myself last night, but I suppose I shall have to buy some new ones. I'm also finishing a lightweight, fluffy, pink sweater. Sounds grotesque, I realize, but it's perfect for travel. It takes only five balls of a very fine lightweight silk/mohair, but because it has a relatively full loft for such a fine yarn, it is very warm. Perfect for travel!

You know, lately I think my subconscious has been preoccupied by the fact that I am about to turn forty. I am not at all bothered by the age, itself, but the "moving into the forties" is an interesting step for a woman. I keep on turning different lives over and over in my head, and it's a little bit difficult not to think about how sad it is that I haven't met anyone. I have not met one appropriate man to date in Ottawa since I have lived here. Not one! I find it so strange that dishonest people, mean people, etc., etc., often find quite nice people to be with, and I can't find just ONE who is intelligent, creative and kind and adventurous. Not one! I mean, I don't want to settle. I really don't. I have made my choices very consciously. But it's difficult not to imagine what it would be like to be living a different life - with a pleasant, decent, funny person and maybe children. Everyone has that fantasy. I'm not unhappy with my lot, but I also don't see it as the only way. I could have been many things and been happy in many different lives, I think. Ah well, we can't live them all; we don't get everything. I am very grateful and proud of what I have, and more importantly what I have done, progressively, to build contentment in my life where there was not much. I also had one very important thought this morning, which was more of a feeling. That thought was that much can still happen, and how exciting not to know right now how the road will twist and turn. I've always liked an ending that was more of question mark than a full stop.

9:14 a.m. - 2010-04-24

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