I woke up last night very upset, with the words running through my mind "you are not an artist, you are a failure, who are you kidding?". It was 2:45am and that's all I could think until I finally fell asleep again. I am afraid the little voice is right, which is probably why I haven't really produced anything in the past few months and why I have no new ideas and why I haven't put up any posts here.
I have dropped my membership in a couple of groups and I think I may discontinue this blog, get rid of my website (which is an embarrassing mess anyways, with no direction or beauty) and just retire from any sort of online participation. It's not doing anything for me but making me fee worse about being unproductive.
I may also cancel my participation in a series of classes that I started this past spring. We are to meet again in November and through correspondence with the teacher I have realized that I have some personal faults, and that unless I can overcome those, I can't move forward as any sort of creative person. And since I've struggled with these faults my whole life, recognizing their destructive power, but haven't been able to move past the issue, then it's hardly worth me wasting the time of everyone participating in the class, much less the teacher who is a very busy and important person.
You would never know from looking at me as I go about my daily routine that I am feeling very adrift. But inside my little brain there is nothing but disappointment in myself, my poor work ethic, and the feeling that there is nothing creative for me to draw on now. It's disheartening.
But life goes on, and so I will just feed my birds, do a bit of gardening and probably clean out a lot of the junk in my studio. Perhaps I should take up another creative form of expression, as fabric no longer seems to be speaking to or through me.