To you, my fellow creatives, I give my most recent poem - a whimsical sketch of the creative's struggle to balance productivity, chores, order, and creativity.  Last week, I was commenting (or was it complaining?) via text to a friend how my unfinished macrame plant hanger (which I am happy to report is now complete) was taunting me from across the living room while I folded my laundry.  My friend texted back that "he [the project] was calling my name", and a few moments later, I was sitting amidst my half-folded laundry writing of sirens and muses, crafts and chores.  
    

    Remember  to lean into the moments of inspiration - sometimes it looks like perching on the arm of your couch to write a poem when the idea comes or it may be lost. Sometimes it looks like cleaning your space so you can think clearly and focus on your art.  

    I also encourage you to surround yourself with people who believe in your arts and inspire you to pursue your crafts.  If you have a gift - someone is waiting for you to share it - you may not have found your audience yet, but keep at it diligently and don't let the voices of doubt (whether your own or others') hinder you from living to the fullest with the gifts and talents God has given you - He gave them to you for a reason! Seek Him for what He wants you to do with them and then bravely pursue that path. 

The Siren of Undone Crafts

What’s that sound I hear?

(The sound amidst the chores) 

It’s the sound of the macrame that hangs upon the door 

Part is neatly knotted

While the other yarns hang loosely on the floor

It’s the sound of the crochet hat 

Half the skein is neatly done 

While the other half awaits what it will become 

It’s the sound of watercolor paintings

The backgrounds are begun 

And on the table are the scattered brushes 

Waiting to paint the pond and rushes 

It’s the sound of pencils sketching on pads

Flowers and scenes 

The stories and dreams 

Still lives, dresses, outfits and more 

(Oh when will I ever finish this dreadful chore?)

The Siren calls my name 

And makes this task a bore 

For all that needs to be done 

Keeps me from so much more 

Though I harken a moment 

I cannot stay 

For my undone tasks before me lay 

But wait a little while, and I shall come 

And finish the crafts I’ve left undone 

Be silent, oh Siren,

For lo, here comes the Muse 

The taunting Siren no longer can abuse 

For everything now is in its place

There isn’t a crumb or dust upon this space

The dishes are done 

And floors are too 

And there’s no laundry I need to do. 

So come, O Muse, and put in its place, 

The Siren of Undone Crafts 

The one who at me laughs 

My chores now done

To the studio I come 

I complete my dreams 

My gifts I share with this hallowed race 

The Siren and Muse both fanciful may be 

But in my imagination- today they met me.