I really want to be better at drawing/urban sketching.
If you said that to me, I’d tell you the answer is to draw more. The more you do the thing, the better you get at the thing.
It’s called work.
You can read books, attend classes and all that kinda jazz, but the baseline, IRL answer is: do the thing.
What I want to know is why am I not prioritising the thing I want to get better at and enjoy doing?
I’m really going off Christmas. When I think of “Christmas” as just December 25th I have a load more holidays. Suddenly the 24th and 26th aren’t eaten up by last minute shopping, tidying or em, tidying up again. They’re just days after all; plain old ordinary days and I like thinking of them like that. I’m not a grump around Christmas, but I do seem to have managed without any decorations, trees or even presents for 2018. Just having my family around for a meal is all I need, and I don’t even mind which meal it is!
I read (and recommend) Sapiens by Yuval Noah Harari earlier this month. The author talks about our “shared imagination” that is the framework for much of our world, and beliefs such as Christmas (and other religious high days) are included. It’s one of the many arbitrary dates which exist only in our agreement and with that I have officially become an old lady (got off my lawn you damn kids!!).
The living room is so “not cosy” at the moment. In a burst of enthusiasm while the kitchen was being gutted we started pulling off the wall paper and built-in fireplace in the living room. Then we found the wallpaper in particular quite hard, so we stopped. Now we have this stripped wall aesthetic and knowing us, it’ll be like this for another 25 years!
But the kitchen is fantastic. It’s cosy and lovely and even has light shades now I finally made a decision. The dining room pendant light ended up being the very first one I liked. It kept with me through all the shops and all the Pinterest boards - I just loved it from the start so over the Christmas break we bought it (on sale! oh yeh!!) and I am so happy with it.
So now I own two Mini Coopers. What am I? A millionaire?? The 2004 Mini that was involved in the accident at the end of last year just came home from the panel beater just the other day. Getting parts for European cars takes time, apparently. That or maybe because I’m wasn't screaming on the phone it took an entire month to get my car back.
It didn’t really matter because I bought a newer Mini in the meantime. What a difference ten years makes in automobile technology. The newer car has sat-nav, auto-everything, a smart sunroof, a fabulous stereo system. I’m soooo happy with it. Now I need to sell the 2004 car but now it’s back it feels like I’m trading in a puppy or something. It’s a great little car and I hope it ends up with a good home.