I am always so acutely aware of my happiness.
I think it’s something that naturally goes hand in hand with depression. Like a business man who’s obsessed with money. He’ll never have enough of it and therefore never be satisfied.
A bit like that.
I see the faults in this, I see the circles I must go in. The more you try to not be obsessed with something though the more attention you’re giving to that one thing. But this post isn’t about that anyway.
Recently a thought hit me – I do so much to try and make myself happy. Well, nothing has worked well so far, so why not do things for others instead. Spend my time a little more wisely.
I’ve gone along with idea for a few months now. A lot of my help to others seems to always involve paint. I’ve tried to help emotionally a few times and I can’t seem to do that quite yet.
I can’t do more than I’m ready for but if there’s some DIY someone needs doing, I’ll be there for youuu.
I haven’t done anything ground breaking. I haven’t helped the community, only family and friends. And it’s all little things that they could have done but I’ve done it instead. It still seems like I gave them a little bit of happiness and that’s the goal.
Someone to feel happy.
In turn that does make me feel happy.
And the act alone of painting chairs or a fence is therapeutic and has given me a little hope.
Not that any of this is about how I feel. My focus was never on that.
I encourage you to help someone in a small way. And the only reason for that action is for their satisfaction, not your own.
In celebration of turning 27 – the notorious age of a club I idolised ten years prior, the 27s club – I accepted I am not what I thought a 27 year old is and documented a stuffed toys adventures in Italy.
No one ever really is their idea of an age.
Although those stars are shrouded in a cloud of mystery, filled with sex, drugs, rock and roll, and oozing with cool and maturity, they’re only stories. As someone who doesn’t know them, nor anyone like them (and I hope I don’t join their club) I can now, with my low level of maturity, put those stories in a box and label it as fiction, as I live honestly myself.
And maybe my honesty is childish.
But I like fun.
The early summer wasn’t the only surprise I had this week.
This book was bought in a bookshop in Tonbridge. A floor to ceiling of books, bookshop. A, books in every nut and cranny possible, bookshop. A quaint, but the space is probably substantial if the books towering everywhere didn’t close the place in, bookshop. Such a small and full bookshop that you fear anyone coming the other way for you’ll have to awkwardly breathe in, despite it making you bigger, and squeeze past each other, risking books flying everywhere, bookshop.
Places like that are true gems.
And it’s still on giving..
While reading on my knitting blanket in the garden, completely engrossed, I turned the page and a sheet of paper was neatly folded and tucked into the margin.
I like to believe someone left a note for the future. I like to believe a whole fairy tale of things that I won’t list, but yes, some of the stories include a secret agent.
I think it was actually someone working out a Christmas card.
A true treasure from the past.
I slipped it back into my book and continued reading.
Today I thought I’d share my incense stick holder I’ve been using for a few weeks. It’s not the most practical, it makes a total mess, so I usually use it if my surfaces need cleaning anyway.
I won’t be buying a real incense holder, I know I won’t, I haven’t got the room anyway. So this is a nice, quick and easy solution that I came up with and I’m sure I’ll keep with for a long while.
It’s made out of air dry clay. I had some left over after making some moon faces, so I rolled it in a ball and stuck in a peg at an angle.
Once it was dry I painted the bottom part gold and then covered it all in PVA glue.
So that’s that. One of my crafts I use regularly and haven’t thought of sharing before. Thanks for reading!
I could be cruel and post photos of me in sunny Morocco from a long two weeks ago, while it’s currently snowing outside, and that dark temptation played on my mind for a long while.
Instead I listened to the angel on my right shoulder and have decided to share my blanket I’ve been knitting for a few years.
Imagine your face being stroked by the soft material, seeing as it can’t be by the sun.
I am not a consistent knitter. It’s for me when my fingers are jittery but I don’t want a big project. Also, tends to be when I’m in a bit of a slump and am trying to comfort myself with creative things.
This blanket is like an old friend. I’m not consistent but the blanket is.