Updated: Mar 5
Our purpose lies in what we don't like to do.
Take puzzles for example. I sell puzzles as part of my art based merchandize - extensions of my art. So others can build them. But not me. You see, I've never built one in my life.
At the same time, I have watched puzzle-ites lean over them for days on end in focused concentration, in 20 decibels of a library-standard hush and a threatening hover of yellow-jacket protection over its frail outer frame lying in wait. Almost like a carcass in reverse - not devoured by maggots, but built up by them bit by bit. That's weird. I know.
In all honesty, I'm puzzled by them (haha), or should I say by those who build them. They don't intrigue me, but the people who build them do. In not building them or having no desire to do so, I've had to deal with my own sense of weirdness - yet another thing which makes one feel not-normal. Not that normal.
On the lighter side - some people have a need to whack a ball a hundred yards away just to go look for it. And pay someone handsomely to go look for it with them and while doing so, carry a bag of equipment with to whack it further, once found. None of these things make any sense whatsoever if we look at it from pure, unadulterated and virgin-pressed honesty. Tennis - whacking a ball over a nylon net with stretched gut in an oval frame of wood. Knitting? I'll stop here.
But here lies my truth - I have no need to build them. Puzzles. Or to go look for a ball in the grass. Others have a need to do so. And by not needing to do it I find my purpose. And I let them find theirs. After all - there's something weird in all of us.
Stay safe, stay sound. Enjoy your creativity.
* A confession: I look at some puzzles and think to myself - I could build that and most probably enjoy it. I hear you laugh.