This is to become my offering for a collaborative book project. The tiny little blurry thing in the first photo caused me much stress and grief this morning. I worked on the book page last night until I made a stupid cut (because I was tired). I put the page away and decided to make the charm that goes with the project. Again, I have not purchased anything. Using a flat washer, monofilament and mixed seed beads, I proceeded to string and wrap this charm. This was tedious and frustrating work. I finished the charm and put it on the kitchen counter to show Molly and Abby this morning.
I am not nuts people. I knew where I put the charm. And this morning upon arriving in the kitchen, there was no charm. Mr Charles is putting lunches together. Question - did you move that charm that was laying there? The resulting discussion (fight) leaves me feeling like I am unsupported in the creative work that is so important to me. He honestly thought I had put the stupid charm somewhere else and left without helping me find it. I dumped the kitchen trash can out in the floor (yup - pissed off and slightly desperate feeling) complete with the dregs and really appealing juice that collects in the bottom of the trash bag. I found the charm in the bottom of the trash. (I really don't think he tossed it knowingly) He thinks I am mad because it got thrown in the trash. Not so, I KNOW crap happens. What ticked me completely off was the feeling that he could care less that it was missing and that he thought I had not left it there but somewhere else. Then it was not important enough to really help me look. When I found it and called to report the whereabouts of said charm - there seemed to be no real enthusiasm about the discovery. Are all men clueless - or just the one who lives at my address?
The part that baffles me is the completely wrong assumption of why I am upset. Mistakes happen - all I wanted was help to find the charm - I didn't expect anyone to say how neat or pretty or cute or whatever. I just hate the feeling of him not believing that I put it where I said I did - I am not in the habit of making things like that up. I don't expect anyone who isn't creative to understand the creative process - I just need them to know I have a need to create and to share those creations. I don't expect anyone to help me string beads or paint or sew or stamp. I do want them to respect that I get as much enjoyment out of those things as he gets from a football game. I don't like football, but I damn well know that he does and I give him no problem about going. I really am sorry that the real full blown b*&^$ came out in me early this morning.
Enough about that. The charm and book page are for JoAnnA who has recently undergone a mastectomy and has follow up processes to endure. I saw the invitation for the collaborative project and jumped at the opportunity to participate. I am working through my artistic process and the story behind my designs. After JoAnnA receives her book, I will post a clear photo and explanation of the thoughts associated with the design.
The project box is one of my fetish items. I love cigar boxes - especially wooden ones - and tea boxes - and cheese boxes - and sewing machine drawers. I have a very hard time passing these things up in junk and/or antique stores. I use these as storage and as decor around the house. Buy me old wooden boxes and I am a happy lady. Fill them with mixed ephemera for my creations and I am even happier. Add fabric and ribbon and paper - even better.
Is it just me or does anyone else deal with these issues? Am I the one with the problem or am I being unreasonable? At a younger age, I would have just cried or walked away from it. Does standing your ground and requiring respect come with age or is that something that surviving life challenges gives you the courage to do? Is it too much to ask that people see you and your needs as important enough? Is it too much to ask that I be respected as Teresa, not just mom, or someone's wife? Does everyone have these days?
This certainly turned out as an ugly post, didn't it. I have read and re-read it and tried to find kind and generous words today. I don't have them. I do hope everyone will forgive this post because my life is not always nice and neat and pretty and I am choosing to share that. Sometimes I think the illusion is better and then I also think the reality is necessary.
I hope my day improves and that you are all having a better one than I am.
2 comments:
You are not alone! Mine used to do this to me ALL the time, making me question my sanity. I really hated it worse than anything else. And you know what, I wasn't crazy. I did put things where I had said, I did recall previous conversations, and I do have a memory like an elephant. I am not dumb. You are not dumb. Sounds like, however, your Mr. is a sieve sometimes. If it isn't about him, it trickles right on through. Mine, I think, was more of a collander because EVERYTHING about me went right through him.
Boys (and men) are really dumb. When they do stuff like this I get mad but then I remember that they are less fortunate and so I try to think charitably. But, no, can't do it, they're annoying. Cute, but annoying. It's a burden we bear for being wiser and much better at most everything.
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