on feeling flaky

Not knowing how to start seems like a perennial problem, well, it is for me.

In 2018 I packed up my design studio and immediately pivoted into an art business, ignoring that the reason I called it quits on freelance remained unresolved.

In hindsight, the glaring issue of functional capacity or, rather, lack thereof was obvious. But despite the stats on what others with my condition go through I was determined that I could do better. If I was just more determined than them, I could power through. I would adapt; I would stay useful. I blame The Little Engine that Could.

A main stay in my childhood rotation of Golden Books alongside The Boy Who Cried Wolf and the Pokey Little Puppy, the Little Engine is one that haunts my psyche. Little Engine is a small train that thinks she can do a job that much bigger trains have failed to do. Yet, by the power of her own magical thinking, Little Engine overcomes her own physical limits and is good and useful and worthy; not like those other less determined, lazy locomotives over there.

So, thinking I can, I took the remnants of my design career and shoe-horned them into a space that looked productive, reasonable and respectable. And then. My health persisted to decline, and I burnt out. This sucks, obviously. It turns out sometimes the little engine can’t.

Ableism aside, what has become even more pronounced for me of late is the feeling of containment within the brand I made, and now I just feel cross. I want to explore and experiment and the immediacy of feedback on the internet is a real hindrance to that. I feel flaky when I change course, even when the first path has eroded in front of me.

When I started experimenting with loose-style paintings, a man direct messaged me to tell me that he liked my old stuff better than my new stuff. The audacity! I sent him a link to purchase my old stuff, and like magic – he disappeared.

Magic tricks aside, the comment lingered, and I felt silly for trying new things.

But now, I think; are we really trying to be just one thing? Why? Does it matter that you loved lacrosse last year and cross stitch this year? Isn't that so interesting? If Mariah Carey decided to release an album of Gregorian chants I would be thrilled! Wouldn't you?

So this is me, drawing the line in the sand; I will experiment and be my best wild and weird self. I will try new things and see what comes to me. I will resist the flaky feeling, and if the little engine fails, she will accept it, and pivot again.

How about you? Do you feel flaky when your interests change?