Not material envy as much as creative envy, but seethe with it I do. Have you perused the site? It's the creative girls' wet dream, er, I meant to say a creative girl's Ebay, heh, yeah. It is also a bridal jackpot of crazy goodness, by the way (but that's a post for another time - and possibly another blog? I don't know, I'm still debating on that point, will keep you posted).
It, Etsy, is totally amazing. But it also makes me squirm with discomfort, as I spend far too many hours clicking next-next-next on the infinite returns to my search queries. I squirm because a) I have no money to spend on such non-essential things just now and b) it's not really the time, GlobalFinancialMeltdown-fully speaking, to be on the consumer kick (except it is, because that might help solve the whole insane crisis just a tiny bit, but then again see point a). On the other hand: it is supporting individuals in the economy; it is almost all art; it is helping to foster a more regional and/or alternative economy (in some cases more than others, I suppose, but especially here in Portland where a lot of the Saturday Market vendors have etsy pages) beyond the reach of the Walmart/Big Box/Trendoid culture that chewed us up and spit out in Roaring 90's/Insane Aughts. Still, I personally should not be augmenting my wardrobe (have fallen in total love with that crazy 18-in-one dress, oy! Am I nuts? I'm a little nutso, right?) at the moment, or fantasizing about all the lovely hand painted dishware I want to possess. Nor should I be spending all these hours imagining MAKING all the lovely handmade items I'm lusting after in the etsy coffers.
Because c) that is really what it comes down to. Not only to I want to own these things, but really I want to MAKE them. But with too many things on the old To Do list as well as the hey-that-would-be-fun project list (and far too many items uncrossed off of both, I might add) as well as the continually pushed back things-I-keep-meaning-to-get-to-like-buying-a-house-and-having-kids-and-stuff stuff, it would be insane to start yet another is-she-really-going-to-finish-it? project or fifty-three. However, since that's never stopped me before (and since I think we're pretty solid on the first-comes-love-then-comes-marriage-then-comes-baby-in-the-baby-carriage - who knew I'd wind up being so traditional? ha ha) please keep your eyes out for cheap plain white dishware for me, won't you? It's all part of the new kitchen in the new house that we will totally get around to buying one of these days soon.
On a semi-related note, I'm reading this vaguely self-helpish book by Barbara Sher called "Refuse to Choose" (yeah, yeah, don't judge, it's an awful name I know, and sadly the subtitle is even worse) that posits that some people (she calls them "Scanners" - I suspect someone could really use a verbiage coach to help polish her brilliant ideas, I'm just sayin') are naturally disinclined to choose a single focus, direction or profession. They are, instead, predisposed to fits and spurts of creative energy, ideation and inspiration, but are inhibited by an increasingly specializing and speciality focused society that requires a single focus or direction at one time and doesn't allow for much jumping around, and, well, blah blah blah and so forth (it's actually a good and useful book, I really am not intending to mock it - though I may just be saying that because it totally justifies my entire existence, but anyway...).
So there's an exercise in there that has the reader draw a floor plan/map of their home and then walk through it and write down every project (conceptual, finished, barely started, never past the supply-purchasing phase, all of it) and mark them down in each room where they sit/live/were conceived of/etc. And I must say: As an exercise? Totally. Effing. Fascinating. As a reality check? Honestly a little depressing, because man is that floor plan jam freaking packed. You would think by looking at it that the only things furnishing this place were unfinished craft projects, stacks of scribbled on paper under strange art materials, undulled tools, and dusty instruments.
Of course any and all creative/crafty/planning energy these days is all being siphoned off into the tubular world of Wedding Planning (duh dun duuuuuuuum!). And work stuff, client web sites and marketing writing and project planning, of course. Of course? Um, yeah, not really. It's all about the wedding "art and vision" right now, I'm sad to admit - seriously, I'm *that* girl all of a sudden. Example: Mark and Jess brought the kids over in their costumes tonight and caught me watching videoed photo montages from random weddings. Complete with heartstring-tugging background music. In the dark. Oy. At least it's all internet these days, no trees were harmed in the making of this bridal porn!
And that leads me back to the oh-so-many wedding related things to discuss. Venues. Kilts. Girls, I have some ideas about your ensembles. So, probably going to create a moment-in-time blog for the discussions of all that biz. Not sure I can stomach it living here. We'll see.
It's all good, nothing need be decided now. The only thing I need to worry about now is my addiction to all things Etsy, DIY and bridalscape smut-y.
It, Etsy, is totally amazing. But it also makes me squirm with discomfort, as I spend far too many hours clicking next-next-next on the infinite returns to my search queries. I squirm because a) I have no money to spend on such non-essential things just now and b) it's not really the time, GlobalFinancialMeltdown-fully speaking, to be on the consumer kick (except it is, because that might help solve the whole insane crisis just a tiny bit, but then again see point a). On the other hand: it is supporting individuals in the economy; it is almost all art; it is helping to foster a more regional and/or alternative economy (in some cases more than others, I suppose, but especially here in Portland where a lot of the Saturday Market vendors have etsy pages) beyond the reach of the Walmart/Big Box/Trendoid culture that chewed us up and spit out in Roaring 90's/Insane Aughts. Still, I personally should not be augmenting my wardrobe (have fallen in total love with that crazy 18-in-one dress, oy! Am I nuts? I'm a little nutso, right?) at the moment, or fantasizing about all the lovely hand painted dishware I want to possess. Nor should I be spending all these hours imagining MAKING all the lovely handmade items I'm lusting after in the etsy coffers.
Because c) that is really what it comes down to. Not only to I want to own these things, but really I want to MAKE them. But with too many things on the old To Do list as well as the hey-that-would-be-fun project list (and far too many items uncrossed off of both, I might add) as well as the continually pushed back things-I-keep-meaning-to-get-to-like-buying-a-house-and-having-kids-and-stuff stuff, it would be insane to start yet another is-she-really-going-to-finish-it? project or fifty-three. However, since that's never stopped me before (and since I think we're pretty solid on the first-comes-love-then-comes-marriage-then-comes-baby-in-the-baby-carriage - who knew I'd wind up being so traditional? ha ha) please keep your eyes out for cheap plain white dishware for me, won't you? It's all part of the new kitchen in the new house that we will totally get around to buying one of these days soon.
On a semi-related note, I'm reading this vaguely self-helpish book by Barbara Sher called "Refuse to Choose" (yeah, yeah, don't judge, it's an awful name I know, and sadly the subtitle is even worse) that posits that some people (she calls them "Scanners" - I suspect someone could really use a verbiage coach to help polish her brilliant ideas, I'm just sayin') are naturally disinclined to choose a single focus, direction or profession. They are, instead, predisposed to fits and spurts of creative energy, ideation and inspiration, but are inhibited by an increasingly specializing and speciality focused society that requires a single focus or direction at one time and doesn't allow for much jumping around, and, well, blah blah blah and so forth (it's actually a good and useful book, I really am not intending to mock it - though I may just be saying that because it totally justifies my entire existence, but anyway...).
So there's an exercise in there that has the reader draw a floor plan/map of their home and then walk through it and write down every project (conceptual, finished, barely started, never past the supply-purchasing phase, all of it) and mark them down in each room where they sit/live/were conceived of/etc. And I must say: As an exercise? Totally. Effing. Fascinating. As a reality check? Honestly a little depressing, because man is that floor plan jam freaking packed. You would think by looking at it that the only things furnishing this place were unfinished craft projects, stacks of scribbled on paper under strange art materials, undulled tools, and dusty instruments.
Of course any and all creative/crafty/planning energy these days is all being siphoned off into the tubular world of Wedding Planning (duh dun duuuuuuuum!). And work stuff, client web sites and marketing writing and project planning, of course. Of course? Um, yeah, not really. It's all about the wedding "art and vision" right now, I'm sad to admit - seriously, I'm *that* girl all of a sudden. Example: Mark and Jess brought the kids over in their costumes tonight and caught me watching videoed photo montages from random weddings. Complete with heartstring-tugging background music. In the dark. Oy. At least it's all internet these days, no trees were harmed in the making of this bridal porn!
And that leads me back to the oh-so-many wedding related things to discuss. Venues. Kilts. Girls, I have some ideas about your ensembles. So, probably going to create a moment-in-time blog for the discussions of all that biz. Not sure I can stomach it living here. We'll see.
It's all good, nothing need be decided now. The only thing I need to worry about now is my addiction to all things Etsy, DIY and bridalscape smut-y.
