With my butterfly-project nearing its end, I’m starting to get impatient. It’s like being a child waiting for your birthday. The entire year, you hardly think about it. But then the night before the great day you’re supposed to be vast asleep. And here you are, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling, so nervous you’re feeling ill. What’s worse, time seems to have it in for you and the seconds crawl by.
At the end of a project, I always have a similar feeling. Before, time simply doesn’t matter that much. I’m blissfully caught up in that artistic flow that is just a joy to be in. But at the end of the road, I always realize that, my goodness there really are only 24 hours in a day. Of those 24 hours, I really do only have the energy to spend 2 hours on my craft. And during that time, I’m constantly battling fatigue.
‘Daydream’ is what my new sculpture is called. Quite the irony. At work I have a hard time keeping my eyes open. It’s a side-effect of both my medication and Janice’s nightly antics that makes me tired.
Tis Not The Spinning Wheel That Does Me In
Normally, when tired, it’s a good practice to listen to your body. Take a few vacation days, go to bed, do anything to get your energy back up. In my case, if I do that, I’d never leave the bedroom again. For real, I can sleep the entire day, and not be remotely refreshed or be on permanent leave and still feel dead tired and completely useless to boot. So… not an option.
Instead, I keep a strict schedule. I make sure that I get enough sleep. When the alarm goes off, I roll out of bed, slither into the bathroom, dunk my face in ice-cold water, crawl through the front door, up the stairs to my workshop. By the time I’ve managed to prop myself up to my work station, I’m still able to fall asleep at any moment, but ready as I’ll ever be. If I were a fairytale character… I’d be Sleepy. It’s the beard.
This week I was mostly working on creating extra butterflies to fill in the bottom half of ‘Daydream’. It involves quite a bit of grinding. Protip: When sculpted butterflies suddenly start moving and fly away, chances are that you are dreaming. This is not ideal when your job requires attention to detail. It’s always a pity when your dainty sculpture gets shredded by a milling tool, because you snore too loudly.
Stuff Of Nightmares
These are the times where I do listen to my body and begrudgingly take an afternoon nap as if I were a grumpy granny, instead of the fly 40-year old I keep telling myself I am. We only have one body after all. It just doesn’t help my planning. “No, I can’t finish this up today, because grandma needs her naptime. Grumble grumble. Complaincomplain.”
As much as I am a proponent of immersion, being a storyteller, I do think there are limits. I don’t have to take my sculpture titles so literally, you know. This time I was working on ‘Daydream’, but can you imagine what would have happened if it was ‘Twisted’ instead? There would be hospital visits. Ambulance rides. Newspaper articles. A Guinness Book of Records entry! Who would want that?!
