My art studio is on the third floor of my house and therefore closest to the roof. Normally, it is an inspirational and peaceful place of creativity. Today–not so much.
Today, I sporadically jolt from my chair when I hear tremendously loud thumps above my head. I’m not talking little thuds made by a squirrel here, people. I’m talking thundering booms caused by something the size of a human body. It’s loud. And it’s terrifying.
I know that if I tell my husband, he will–just like any good Minnesotan–sagely nod his head and explain that it is the ice breaking away from the roof. He will patiently tell me that because today is a balmy 16 degrees, we are finally escaping the three month polar vortex of negative zero temperatures, and so the ice dams on the roof are able to melt and break away.
There is no way that ice could make that loud of noise. The only possible explanation is that airplanes are throwing bodies from the sky. I know that if I were to climb up on our roof, I would find corpses casually splattered and scattered there like a scene from one of my son’s video games.
And this applies to crafting, how?
I’m going to be entering a design team call this week. Important people will be looking at my web site to judge the quality of my blog’s craftiness. This doesn’t exactly apply. And yet…
Australian artist Brett Whiteley said, “Art is the thrilling spark that beats death.” Maybe my art is also a thrilling spark that beats death! Perhaps I won’t find corpses because people were leaping toward my crafts in order to light that thrilling spark! Maybe my crafting really is making the world a better place!
Or maybe the ice is breaking away from the roof.
But wouldn’t that be boring?