I love starting a new project. It’s one of the reasons I’m such a NaNoWriMo fan. I get to write a whole new book in November, meet new characters, discover new worlds. Starting a new quilt is always a buzz, and I sew like crazy, inspired by the unfamiliar colors and fabrics.
New projects are exciting, but they can be challenging, too. The newborn idea is dazzling in its beauty and potential and we adore it. We dress it up in cute sleepers that say “Momma’s Favorite” and “Future Best Seller” and we coo. We walk around with a huge happy grin on our faces, so proud of our baby, anxious to get back to her when we are forced to do something else.
Then we start to work and things change, fast. The baby grows into a toddler, and what looked perfect is suddenly smearing mashed peas all over the walls and pouring milk on the cat. What happened to our sweet little baby?
Hoping to get the little monster back on track, we work even harder. To our dismay, things change even more. Suddenly, a willful teenager is there, with her own taste in music, his idea of what’s cool, and it may bear little resemblance to what we dreamt of when we held that little baby in our arms.
Nothing we create is art at first. It’s simply a collection of notions that may never be understood. Returning every day thickens the atmosphere. — Walter Mosley
Now we take a deep breath. And we keep working. Because we are not done yet. Teens with braces and zits can blossom overnight into attractive adults. That kid who wouldn’t clean his room becomes a naturalist intent on saving the environment. We have no way of knowing how this is going to turn out.
Which is why we have to keep the faith. Keep working. Keep showing up.
Love that project through all its stages, from cute baby to adulthood.
Maybe we will get a work of art, maybe we won’t.
The kid doesn’t have a chance if we don’t give her the attention she deserves.