100 Tiny Pieces

Discipline or Desire?

On New Year’s Eve I decided that I would make a tiny piece of art on an index card every day in 2025. (See my earlier letter, Index Card Redivivus.) The other day I made it to Day 100 without missing a single day. Pretty great! I am proud of that.

Some people comment about how disciplined I appear to be. I am, yes, committed to doing certain things. I write my Morning Pages almost every single day, no matter where I am. I wrote a poem a day for over a year, kept a daily book of walks, made a woodland journal, finished a 5-year journal of questions, and I’ve written these letters every single week since 2020. Exercise, time restricted eating, cold showers, daily walks—these are all things that I do, seemingly with great discipline.

I always say it’s about desire, not discipline.

Because oh my, I’m terribly undisciplined when it comes to other things like a) opening and dealing with each day’s mail b) keeping track of invoices, orders, and other businessy things c) dusting and cleaning d) keeping my studio neat and tidy e) putting tools and things away after I use them and f) completing certain things, like sales tax, on time. Ugh.

Why? It isn’t exactly about values. It’s more that those things (a through f) are decidedly un-fun, not creative, not zingy in any way. I recently puzzled over this for longer than you would imagine, i.e., why can’t I keep the house clean and deal with the mail in a timely manner, finally realizing it’s simply a matter of fun vs. ick, i.e. doing what I like rather than what I dislike. No big mystery. But wouldn’t it be fun to walk into a neat and tidy studio in which to let my imagination fly? Wouldn’t it be zingy to find all the things where they belong? Would it not be a thing of joy to find my SSA-1099 in its proper place, so easily, rather than having a meltdown when it’s needed, i.e., at tax time?

Perhaps in addition to the dreamy-eyed gardener I could use a highly efficient, pencil-tapping assistant to take care of paperwork. In addition, a fastidious cleaner who bustles about, dusting, polishing, and vacuuming would be wonderful.

It all boils down to enjoying the moment. I love all of my creative pursuits, challenges that speak to things that are important to me, disciplines that enrich my life, commitments that make me proud, that help me to be a more evolved version of who I am. I make promises to myself about things that matter to me. So they are usually easy to keep. No mystery to that.

I can’t do everything. Perhaps I could be better at the things I neglect. (I actually have made New Year’s resolutions, more than once, to open the mail every day. Failed.) Maybe it would be fun to take on the pencil-tapping assistant persona once a week (a month?) and tackle paperwork. Perhaps I could put on a duster, tie a rag around my head and play housekeeper on the first Sunday of the month. Could be fun. I could give them names. I could try out different accents . . .

But yay! I made 100 pieces of tiny art! This is a cause for celebration! This is me doing me! YAY ME!!!

There they are over there in a pile, taking up space on my workspace.

“My theory on housework is, if the item doesn't multiply, smell, catch fire, or block the refrigerator door, let it be. No one else cares. Why should you?” — Erma Bombeck

“normal person's weekly chore list:
1. clean kitchen.
2. clean bathroom.
3. clean entire rest of domicile.
cleaning impaired person's weekly chore list:
1. don't get peanut butter on sheets.”
— Dave Barry

“Perfectionism means that you try not to leave so much mess to clean up. But clutter and mess show us that life is being lived.” — Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird

Check out Ampersand Cards for my cards and art. If you enjoy these letters, feel free to share. And if someone shared this one with you, click the button below to subscribe for free. You'll find all my poems here. Finally, if you’d like to keep up with my 365 Day Index Card art practice, click here.

Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the "merry thoughts."