Creativity be damned
When I was younger, I remember making papier maché things out of bits of newspaper and balloons. I don’t really remember what the things were. I just remember enjoyably, messily, sticking the bits of newspaper in wallpaper paste, and stroking them lovingly onto a balloon. I was creative. Oh yes.
I’m starting to realise that the reason I have no idea what I was making, is that the wallpaper paste took so bloody long to dry that my younger, shorter attention span had long moved on to something else. Like University.
My current project has been drying since Saturday. Globs of wallpaper paste have been making their slow, glacial way down the sides of the construction for days. I expected, by now, to have a nice bowl, which I could paint, and make pretty, and then put things in. But no. I just have a kitchen table covered with piles of paper strips and bowls full of gloop. I’m having to construct my meals in an arena of newsprint. Yesterday, I almost started eating my spaghetti with a spoon covered in non-toxic adhesive.
It’s soul destroying. I’ve known for some years that I am imaginatively and creatively challenged, but I thought that papier maché would not be beyond the limits of my ability.
What am I doing wrong?