Right now, the world is full of Pinterest success stories. All I’ve gotten out of it is a Pinterest induced existential crisis.
I’ve always considered myself a creative person. I write, I play music, and some other stuff that creative people do*. But apparently my entire life has been a lie.
|*Like this. (Photo credit Christa Cram)|
This past fall, my family and I knocked out the wall between two teensy bedrooms in our house, and made one super bedroom for me to enjoy (and not have to shimmy around furniture in). This was around the same time I started using Pinterest. So for the first time in my life, I was left with a blank canvas, and the overwhelming inspiration that makes up my boards.
So for a long time, I was stocking up on ideas: that melted crayon art that everyone does, song lyric wall art, and every other painted furniture, fabric-on-shoe-box-top, wallpapered thing my greedy little eyes fell on.
For a while, I felt proud of all the ideas floating around. I even went to Michaels and bought a canvas for some sweet crayon melting. But a lot of time has passed since I’ve had free reign over decorating my room, and not only have I not made anything awesome, but even the things I do have (a Van Gogh print, some neat wire flower thing my aunt gave me for Christmas) aren’t on my walls. Without realizing it, I froze up.
For ages now, I’ve been sitting in this creative purgatory. There are hundreds of great ideas at my disposal, and I can’t seem to see any of them in my bedroom. But it never really hit me. I just thought I was busy. I didn’t have all the supplies. I’ve been waiting for friends to craft pretty things with me. How can I put up the things I already have until I see them with the things I’m going to make?
This past weekend, my parents took me shopping for a new dresser. We went to a couple of places and saw a whole ton of stuff. Some of it was really tacky, some of it was gorgeous. As we were looking for a sales price on a particular dresser in Bowring (one of those expensive stores that has almost no colourful items at all) my mom looked at me and said “Are you sure this is the one you want?”
And as all the wallpapered, repainted, stenciled, faux finished furniture I’ve pinned flashed before my eyes, it finally hit me: I don’t have a damn clue what I want. Pinterest has given me so much creativity, that it broke my creativity. My socks and underwear are sitting in a rubbermaid container in my closet, and I can’t get myself together enough to buy a dresser. All the wall decor ideas, all the pictures I already own, and I can’t put one damn thing up on my wall.
So there you go, Pinterest. You broke me. Nothing left to do now but pin more things as I reevaluate my life.