For the sheer delight of it!

On a sunny Monday morning it is easy to feel hopeful. My stories are flowing and I'm writing each day, completely in the zone and loving it. At the same time, rejection emails come through at a rate of about one a week. They could bring me down a bit but I won't let them, for each email is proof I am trying.  The best of the rejections have helpful suggestions for plot or character development and come with requests that I send more of my work, so thank you Ethicool Press and thank you Larrikin House for your encouragement. I am not discouraged but rather, feel proud I'm pushing myself and am strong enough to handle 'No.' 

This fabulous truck that I saw on my trip to Rajasthan in India is painted in my favourite green with daisies and leaves. The meticulousness of it amazes me, every part painted by hand, undoubtedly done with pride for the sheer love of appearing unique. When I look again I also see tulips, the symbol of Canberra's famous annual Floriade flower festival that is in full bloom here, albeit spread across shopping centres and communities rather than focused in Commonwealth park due to Covid-19. This photo encapsulates my beliefs about effort and creativity, saying 'do something for the sheer delight of it; celebrate yourself and if others like it that's great but don't let their response be your only reason to create.' 

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​Here's some more creativity for the sheer fun of it! A completely useless pendant assembled from tiny tomatoes and a flower. That's a carpet it is lying on, not a shirt. It seemed like a fun thing to do at the time;  I was at a friend's house, picking veggies over summer, hundreds and hundreds of tomatoes of all colours drooping over their garden beds, exhausted by the heat but unable to stop producing fruit while the ground had water. That kind of effort impressed me, nature's compulsion to produce, produce, even if it spelt eventual death. The desire to reproduce, to leave something of itself in the world is something I relate to. ​My stories are like that, my new offspring. I'd like to think that once publishers find me these mini-mes will exist when (one day) I do not. So, that summer's eve, after filling several bowls with tomatoes, we went inside to the cool of the fan. I was banned from the kitchen while dinner prep began so I curled up with a book on architecture and idly nibbled—and fiddled with—tomatoes, for the sheer delight of it. My friend found me on the floor a while later with my casket of vegetable jewellery.  :-) 
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Allow yourself to play! Experimenting, doodling, warbling or finger-knitting, sculpting, hammering or theorising, inventing recipes, stories or words, whatever brings you a sense of delight: get into it. No-one needs to see it, no-one needs to know. This is your time. Bake your name in rolled worms of nutmegy-gingerbread. Draw little faces on all your bananas. Give yourself a giggle and smile a private smile.

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Till next month, 
​Deborah

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