The Creative Bucket is Empty.

Who knew that creative juices are of finite supply?

My blog has been a welcome outlet since it's early days, which happened to coincide with big life questions, of the kind that occur naturally around milestone birthdays but loom ominously when business is tanking all around and hours are spent next to a loudly silent phone wondering if a client will ever materialize and help pay the rent or even buy dog food. Reluctantly plundering a family nest egg inherited from hard working parents; trying to look on the bright side and give and receive mutual support from self employed friends who are similarly mired in the back waters of an odoriferous brown creek with no paddles in sight. I have found solace, empathy, laughter, friendship and distraction through the portals of my blog. I have filled many hours and enjoyed expressing thoughts, feelings and images. My days have been less fruitless and I have been able to deny my woes for hours at a time; producing some frivolous posts to pass the time and a few meaningful ones which are worth revisiting.
I am not surprised that things are looking up. I have always been optimistic with a strong twist of pragmatism. (Don't stop now, there is no plan B). We have never given up and continued to think of every way we could come up with over the past year and a half to create our own momentum. We are finally feeling some of the raindrops of prosperity starting to trickle down as confidence builds and tendrils of business unfurl from their self-protective, dormant state.
What I had not expected, as I have enjoyed putting my skills back to work interpreting building designs and concepts into practicable projects for clients' who are unskilled at articulating their desires, yet so appreciative of the results when someone else listens to the nuances of their preferences, is the creative void at the end of the day.
It is hard to wrangle words and sentences together into coherent thoughts without chunks of uninterrupted time in which to focus. In addition, as I drive or walk around, I am no longer spinning thoughts of things I want to craft for a post on my blog. I am wrestling with client projects; how best to create a French formal fireplace in a limited space; and quickly before the home owners go at each others' throats in the hotel room in which they currently reside with one large poodle. I get frequent calls for brainstorming with another, who wants to pick my brains about the building style of Provence; for the house we have talked about for two years that will begin construction this month. The roof tiles and interior floors are sitting here waiting patiently. Reclaimed antique terra cottas from the South of France. We're off to a good start on this one.
"Less is more" is my most frequent mantra. Don't include arches, columns, murals and grandeur just because you can. Respect the architectural elements and they will tell the story. Balance, proportion, authenticity, restraint and quality produce a fine environment. Fabrics and furnishings can embellish the tale but live in peaceful equilibrium with the structure and flow of your home.
I'm giving it all I've got and enjoying most of it. So I'm not really complaining. I have always had work and life intertwined as one. I don't know how to live any other way.
I am keeping up with reading all the new posts on the blogs I have been following. I couldn't miss out on new developments in the lives of the familiar Bloglanders I so enjoy. It is often the case now that I want to comment but feel some reflection is required to formulate a considered response and I only have a minute so I refrain. I have been feeling like a slacker as I have struggled to post even once a week, in comparison to days when I felt the urge to write multiple posts.
I expect to re-habituate myself to fuller days and find hidden depths in the inspirational well, from which I can refill my creative bucket.