But all my choices, my good luck... Appear to go and get me stuck

Choices are scary.

He chose to leave. I choose to think he's dead rather than having willingly chose someone else.

Having chosen the train, I chose the lack of sleep, the fear inducing top bunk, and I chose the lack of security for my luggage.

I didn't choose to lose my bag, some stranger made the choice to take it.

Now I'm trying to choose to be realistic.......he chose someone else. Actively, a choice made of free will, he chose someone else.

And I'm choosing to accept the fact that my luggage is long gone, that someone needed it more than I. I choose to believe that this very iPad made my laptop and my DSi obsolete.

It's harder to choose to be equitable about all my new purchases from Colorado; my jewelry from Boulder Home Town fair, my new brassiere that made my girls look wonderful, my new BFF purse......and then of course all my clothes. The jewelry I had brought to show my friend, jewelry created by my mom, and my emeralds, the last of a set from my Gramie.

But you want to know what brings me to tears, no matter what I choose to believe? My teddy bear. I want to swear, I want to break down in tears, but that little bit of nostalgia, that loss hurts the most.

Stupid huh?

But I have no choice.

Artism

Make friends with an artist.
She will ask why aren't you creating and she won't be quilting you, she'll honestly want to know.
And you'll both be sitting in a cafe, you with your latte, her with her chai, and you'll watch her create, face drawn with concentration.

You'll find yourself staring and wondering what kind of void she's crossed in order to do that.

Not everyone creates, what's different about those that do?

Something fundamental, something learned, something won as a success or a response to a failure?

My creation is written. It's also stagnant and deriviative. It's in need of repetition and the time and energy to create and recreate until it shines thru as original. 10,000 hours needed to master something and I've spent so much time stagnating myself. Creator and creation. Pretty pathetic, really. 

But every creator must go thru something similar, the pain of creating something that isn't quite right, not quite perfect. But you have to struggle anyway, otherwise nothing will ever agree with your inner vision. That perfect creation in your soul.

So you end up watching your artist friend create, seemingly effortlessly, tho you know she'd hit you for saying that. And you think maybe its ok that you're still so far behind, because there she is, bringing her creation to life and it's perfect.