Linda Ronstadt and I are of the same generation. She can’t sing anymore, and I identify with the ending of a good portion, if not all, of her creative life. Maybe she is more rounded than that, but maybe not. I am heartbroken at her lack of voice, and it is gnawing at me, somehow connected to my own creativity. “You’re no good, You’re no good, baby you’re no good. . . “
I am heartbroken at my complete exhaustion toward a creative life myself. This recession has worn me out. Just working to stay afloat has been a monumental effort, harder than anything I did in my twenties and thirties.
Don’t get me wrong, I am grateful for so much. We have our business, and more than that, we have each other, Mitchell and I.
I have no creative life. For a creative person this is a large part of how we relate to the world, even if no one but us ever sees what we do. Writing, contemplating, painting is how I process life, make sense of it all. I am so very tired that I have no creative urges, nothing left to give at a long day of fighting to survive. And there is a lot of fighting-to-survive in a typical day — not just a bad day — a typical day.
It seems like there are so many more obstacles to doing business, besides the most obvious one, which is less clients, less money. Everything in our industry is effected by this recession, and our clients do not know what is going on. How could they? They think it is our laziness when samples take three weeks to arrive. However:
1) Fabric companies no longer stock a wide-ranging line of fabrics;
2) They send teeny samples to present to clients;
3) They are online but their websites don’t work;
4) The so-called researchers who are supposedly hired because they have a clue about color and pattern send blue when you ask for wine colors:
5) They now sell to online stores which post different retail prices that the keystoned prices or suggested retail. This doesn’t matter to us — we don’t sell retail to our customers — but sometimes customers think we are lying because they see these online companies prices. They want the wholesale prices from the online companies, which would be below wholesale.
Supply companies are going out of business and now we send to France for supplies. FRANCE. After 50 years of having places to buy from in the Pacific Northwest, now we go to France because local companies are all out of business.
These are just two small areas of the biz that cause us hours of wasted time. Hours of wasted time in an already long day. And they are essential to the business.
I think people are more stressed (like myself) and so are not as good at their jobs; I can’t keep a thought straight some days because of stress. God I hate that word — stress — but it is what is true for me. Stressed over the top almost every day, some days until I feel I am spinning in place not knowing where I am going next. Catch me when I am in the right place and I might still seem intelligent but my brain may be scrambled in the next instance.
Bureaucracies are winning. Corporatism is winning. Politics is depressing no matter what side of the fence you are on because the idiots cannot be civil enough to solve a single problem.
Places of spiritual respite are not real enough for me, and only talk upward thoughts of living in the light and ooooommmmm and do not seem to deal with the real issues at least in the world I live in, with other small business owners trying to make ends meet in an increasingly negative climate. Don’t get me wrong; without meditation I would be banana-cakes by now, AND, can we have a real discussion about real-world problems among so-called spiritual people? I’d like to see people with so-called higher consciousness tackle real problems.
Creativity connects me in my world, connects me inside in some mysterious manner, gets my synapses working again. If I were 25 I would stay up all night and choose creative time over sleep, because creative feeds me more than sleep, but I simply can’t anymore. I am too damn tired, too damn old to stay up all night and function..
Thankfully, snuggling into Mitchell at night, cuddling our critters, or even laughing with joy at their antics also connects me. It doesn’t solve my creativity problem, but it is my saving grace.
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