Small Differences. Big Changes.

Exploring being creative is a funny thing. 

It has made me look at day-to-day life in a completely different way.  I am beginning to find that creativity is starting to seep into everything I look at, do, and think about.  In a lovely, fluid way.  Not in a scary, obsessive way. 

Firstly, it started with my home.

I had vintage books on a bookcase.  All lined up neatly according to size and colour.  I'm a former teacher.  Organisation might be a bit of a thing with me.  The words "Monica" and "have you got OCD" may have been used near or around me.  Not any more.  My vintage books now sit displayed creatively in different parts of my lounge. 

They're still a little bit lined up according to size and colour, but at least they're off the shelf.

I got the idea of binding the books with ribbon from this lovely blog, here.

I used to make tea in the mug.  I now enjoy baking biscuits,  to eat with the tea I make in a china tea pot.  All served on a pretty tray with napkins and doilies.  Take a wee glimpse at Just My Cup of Tea.  

I used to avoid my kitchen.  Now I spend happy times there skidding on dropped eggs and baking.  I have even hung fairy lights from my plate rack.

Ooh, Pretty!

I have arranged everything in my kitchen so that the things I love to look at are displayed where I can see them while I'm knocking up a rude amount of shortcake.

My cocktail shaker and vintage icing sugar shaker,
for shaking things up in the kitchen.

I used to keep notes of things that came to mind in a journal.  It was completely miserable.  I now share my thoughts with you here on my blog.  Not so miserable.   

Being creative has started to seep into all areas of my life.  I've even started to change my appearance.  I've gone from my natural brunette, to a zingier, richer, copper chestnut.  I've stopped saving my "best" clothes for best and have started wearing things that make me smile and feel creative. 

I went out on Friday wearing a hairband with a big, floppy, black, satin bow attached to it.  It squeezed my head a lttle bit, but hey. 

I was carrying a vintage 1950's umbrella I recently found at my favourite reclamation shop.  I bought the umbrella to sit in my porch and look pretty.  As I came to leave the house it started to rain.  I picked up my vintage umbrella.  And got told that evening that I looked a bit like Mary Poppins carrying it.  Apparently the bow looked a bit Minny Mouse-ish.  

I even bumped into the man who runs my favourite reclamation shop.  He looked me up and down and told me I scrubbed up well.  I'm taking that as a compliment. I wondered what he was suggesting about the days he normally sees me in his shop.  I'm not pulling at that string.

I've been out shopping for the perfect shade of red lipstick to match my new hair.  I love red lipstick, and a lick of black eyeliner.

 

I'm having heaps of fun being creative me.  A little bit of vintage.  A lot of smiling. 

Being creative has really surprised me.  It's all about self-expression.  I kind of knew that already.  But knowing something, and really knowing it, are two different things. 

The surprise for me has been how limitless the possibilities are for creative self-expression.  Absolutely anything can be seen as creative.  Depending on your frame of mind. How you see it. 

I had books on a shelf.  Now they are beautiful items to look at.  They're still books.  I've just changed the way I see them.

I am self-expressing all over the place in my home and with my personal appearance.  I have been moving items around my home.  Lovingly displaying them.

Fairy lights around the mirror.

In an earlier post, My Creative Space, I wrote about how I converted my computer room into a "creative space".  Here is the old 1950's typewriter I had sitting up in the loft, now sitting on the desk, in my creative room reminding me how much I love to write.

I've reorganised my bedroom with vintage pictures and blousey flowers so there are pretty things to look at. 

Vintage photo frames, lace and pearls on the bedside table.

I've changed cushions, throws and lighting in my lounge, so that it's cosy, warm and welcoming to relax in.

 

I am, frankly, self-expressing all over the place. 

I've hung flowers and plants in the front garden, so that it looks colourful and inviting when I come home.  And it's so much fun.

The one thing that confuses me is that, so far, creativity, for me, hasn't been very much about making any jewellery, or painting any pictures, or exploring new mediums of self expression art-wise.  The canvas so far seems to be mainly my home and me.    

Over the past two months I have instinctively and systematically altered the appearance of each room in my home.  Slowly, thoughtfully and steadily.  I've tweaked here.  Moved an item there.  It has just felt like the right thing to do.  Not big changes physically.  But a shift in how I see things.  

And it feels more me.

And I've found myself dressing much more creatively.  A little bit of vintage.  A little bit of red.  A lot of smiling.

And this seems to be making a difference.  Something seems to be happening.

I find myself chatting to strangers more.  People smile at me a lot lately.  Friends have been telling me I look "different".  "Great".  I have random conversations with people I come across each day.  Warm chats.  About whether they prefer tea or coffee.  The weather.  The weekend.  Their health.  How they're doing.  

People seem to be warmer towards me.  Or maybe I'm warmer towards them.

Life feels easier somehow.

Even the cat is more relaxed.

I know these are small differences in my home.  Small differences in my appearance.  But it feels like a bigger difference in my thinking and way of looking at things.

My days feel fuller and more rewarding.

Is it because I'm having more fun being creative?

Is it because I'm wearing a big, floppy bow.  And people think I'm a little bit daft?  

Am I happier because I enjoy each day much more because I'm thinking about how to be creative?  

Is being creative really that powerful just two months in?

I'll keep you posted.