The Wanderer

Once upon a time, I was moving to Utah.
I still am.
Last year I posted about how I had a feeling I needed to move to Utah and a few days, I'll be doing just that.
I don't know what it says that all I've done to pack, is put a bunch of books in a box, ordered two more books on Amazon and watched Netflix.
My suitcases are ready to be filled with clothes, my art supplies are calling to me to organize them, and my truck is saying "Change my oil already!!!"
Somehow, I always find my way back to the bay area. No matter how many times I've moved away, I've always come back...so I feel like this move is more of an extended vacation. One in which I find a job.
Last week, someone told me they are going to start calling me the Wanderer. Normally that would have bothered me. Being settled in one place, living like all my other 20/30-something friends sounds like something I should be doing. I used to not like being associated with the word 'wander'. It seemed like I was aimless, and didn't know what I wanted to do with my life. Until I realized I like doing a lot of different things. It doesn't mean I don't know what to do with my life. I do know what I want to do, and being able to mosey around from place to place is just a part of it.
It's peaceful, not aimless.
It's a new year.
I know what I want to accomplish.
And I'm going to do it.
I'm excited.

News and Thoughts and Stuff

It is a common misconception that the artists imagination is always producing work--constantly inventing and creating new pieces of art or filling page after page in sketchbooks. While I, as an artist, have sketchbooks filled with ideas and unfinished drawings--I am not constantly producing art as some may think.
Unfortunately.
I would like to be.
But I'm not.
I hit creative "walls" and sometimes nothing I try works out. For this reason, I don't like taking commissioned work. Some may call this a lack of confidence--I just call it being selfish. In a good way that few understand. I create for me, even though I share with others.
However, I'm also a people pleaser and sometimes have a hard time saying No. So I've taken on three commissioned works all of which I'm having a hard time completing because I've hit a "wall".
I'll get them done. And I won't give them over until I'm satisfied with the work...but they just loom over me. I'm procrastinating working on one right now by writing about how I don't want to work on it.

In other news, which I'll keep short and sweet in this nice list:

-I'm not moving for another couple of months.
-I sliced my foot open a month ago, received nine stitches and am 'lovingly' referred to as Frankenfoot.
-I'm re finishing a couple of really cool chairs. I was going to sell them but I think I'll just keep them because they're that cool.
-I got a ticket crossing the bay bridge because the ticket lady didn't enter in that I paid the toll before I crossed through. I'm ticked.
-I had a birthday and got new glasses. Two unrelated events.
-I received a slight raise at work.
-And I've taught myself to burp on command. (Probably not something I should be sharing but I've always wanted to be able to know how to command my own burps. I'm both proud and disgusted with myself.)

I don't have any photos to share. A disappointment, I know. Oh, maybe not for any readers-but for me, whenever I look back through this blog. I'll be so bored without anything to look at.

I'm Moving!

Let me tell you a little story that doesn't have any action, and really no plot, but is way exciting.
Spoiler Alert: It's going to end with me moving to the last place on earth I thought I'd end up.
One Sunday morning in November, I was sitting in Relief Society, listening to the announcements when one lady said that she was moving that week to Utah. She found a job and bought a house and was really excited. I was so happy for her, but sad that she'd be leaving. Then I had the thought that I needed to move to Utah.
"What the heck?" I thought. I was totally taken aback by those words that popped up in my head: move to Utah.
"This is probably because that lady just announced she was moving there. And I'm going there for Christmas and I'll see a few friends that live there. That must be the reason I feel this way."
Utah is the last place I wanted to move. And not because I don't like it. I think it's so pretty there...it's just because I've never before had a desire to stay longer than a vacation trip. And for the last year, I've had my sights on the D.C. area.
But the thought kept coming back...."move to Utah".
I had no idea why I kept thinking that. There's no reason for me to move there. So I dismissed it.
Slowly that thought crept back into my head, and it started to sound good....and over time, it started to feel good....like it's the right decision.
I'm a big believer in following my gut.
So, I'm moving to Utah.
End of July, early August.
No one is more surprised than I am right now.
I have no job yet, no reason other than I feel like it's what I need to do.
I'm not worried about finding a job. That will come, I'm sure of it. I'm looking for work in the Salt Lake and Provo areas (although as time keeps passing I feel drawn to Provo). However, I don't actually feel like I need to be moving to Utah for work. I know that teaching is what I'm meant to do, but I could teach anywhere. It's the weirdest feeling...not knowing why I'm so drawn there.
I'm a little astonished at how excited I'm becoming.
Sometimes I get a little giggly thinking about how there's some reason I need to move there....just waiting to see what's going to happen.
When I was nine, my parents took us to Disneyland. The night before we were going to leave my mom put us to bed but I came running out into the living room telling her that I couldn't sleep because I kept giggling. She said it was because I was so excited.

This move kinda feels like I'm about to go to Disneyland.