Last weekend I got the idea to start a magnet board project, and yesterday I got the idea to start a picture frame project. And whereas a lot of my inspirations never come to fruition (this is the nature of the beast), today I started working on both of these ideas. Although I guess I technically started earlier in the week when I went to Lowe’s to buy supplies–spray paint, mounting hooks, etc.–for the magnet board. Or maybe I started before that when I had the notion to create. Hell, this probably all goes back to that fateful morning in 1979 when my parents skipped church to conceive me. Who knows when anything starts or stops?

But I digress.

For the magnet board I first took the pieces of wood framing I already had and cut them to the proper size. Having gone back and forth about whether to frame the board on the front (where it would look pretty and hold down the decorative paper on the board) or on the back (where it would allow more space for magnets and provide an easy way to hang the whole thing on the wall), I finally decided on the front. This is the deal with decisions. You worry and worry and then–poof!–you make a decision. Like an adult. Anyway, then I put one coat of spray paint on the boards and ironed the decorative paper as flat as possible while they dried. Then I put on a second coat of spray paint and turned my attention to the picture frame project I talked so much about yesterday.

As my plan was to hunt down a used book with an appealing cover for the mounting board/backdrop for my picture frame, I changed out of my paint clothes, switched shoes, and got ready to go. But just as I was leaving the house I decided to rifle through a box of religious books my mom had set aside for our upcoming spring garage sale. Well, I hit pay dirt. (Apparently Christians know how to make pretty books.) I found beautiful covers in blue, purple, black, and gold. And whereas I decided on blue for this current project, my mind went wild with possibilities for other projects. I even started showing my parents–like, Look at this, look at this. Well, when I showed my dad a golden cover with golden etching next to my golden frame and golden brooch (the object I’ve been thinking about displaying inside the frame), he said, “That’s TOO MUCH gold.”

“Not if I painted the frame purple,” I said.

He just looked at my mom and shook his head. “There’s something wrong with that kid.”

“You’re witnessing creativity in action,” I said.

As I sit here now, neither my magnet board nor picture frame project is complete. For the magnet board, the paint is still drying. Some things just take time. (No matter how much I wish things were complete, I can’t change the laws of spray paint.) And whereas for the picture frame project I got the book cover cut and mounted and a hanger attached to the back, I still haven’t decided WHAT to put in the frame. I love the idea of having my golden leaf brooch on display, but I also like the idea of wearing it and therefore don’t want to hot glue it down. Alas, I don’t know WHAT I’m going to do. The upside to being undecided? Anything could happen. The possibilities are endless.

With respect to everyday living, the lesson here is that we can focus on (put inside the frame of our attention) anything we want. When we wake up each day we can say, “Am I going to whine, bitch, and complain about the world I see? Or am I going to be grateful that I’ve been given one more day to live here and–here’s an idea–do something about it?”

While cutting the blue book cover down to size, the part of me that loves books and believes they’re meant to be read died a little. Tossing the rest of the (religious!) book in the trash, I felt like a sinner. Still, I remember what it felt like to be under the thumb of religion, and it wasn’t good. So it also felt refreshing to take something heavy and turn it into something light, to upcycle a piece of my past. With this is mind, I wrote the name of the book and its author on the back (er, inside) of the book cover to remind myself that as one thing–a book, an idea, a way of being–dies, it makes room for something else to be born.

Nothing is ever wasted.