Lost my voice.

I have lost my voice.

No, not literally. My vocal cords are still somewhat functional as usual. But lately I’ve been a shadow of myself, and I am not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. Am I simply taking a lot of time to regenerate, to react to the change of seasons (it’s turning into winter)? Or is something Wrong with me, that my head full of ideas can’t seem to gather the requisite energy to turn Idea into Action?

What else is Wrong? I feel like I’m in an eternal tug-of-war of how to write here at Sunbeam Soapbox. There’s the half-joking voice I use most of the time, the one to which I usually aspire. And there are voices I admire and would like to use as inspiration for my own. People that inspire me. Inspiration that I don’t know how to use.

Black Dog Knits. An artistic knitting weblog. Where I feel like I’ve been sucked into a new, incredible world full of awe and delight. (At which I unfortunately don’t stay for long.) Gluten Free Girl. I may not be sensitive to gluten but the way she writes about food—I think reading too much of this has spurred an increase in appetite, though I haven’t any way to make such inspiring food—which are really moments. Hygge House. If I weren’t exposed to pure homeliness and comfort through web sites such as this, I might feel happier living in a white-bricked prison cell.

And the lovely blog designs make me notice all the Wrong things about my own (the font color, the font itself, the diagonal stripes on the sidebar, perhaps too MUCH orange…). I didn’t design this layout, though, so at least that’s not a reflection on ME—but the fact that I can’t seem to make my own reflects on me. Didn’t I used to be able to do that?

At the same time, I read things like PostSecret and I feel like my life really is nothing to complain about. (I try to only complain in my head.) I just can’t seem to think positively sometimes. I don’t know what to do: I don’t know how to reach out to others and save the world. And I don’t know how to do it in a way that is pretty and creative. Because, while I greatly admire creativity and art, I can’t seem to create my own. That hurts me. I wanted to be an artist when I was young. Every day I have to tell myself that I can’t, because I haven’t the talent. I am not a good photographer, I can’t sew, I am certainly not an amazing lace knitter and designer—I am not a host of things that I admire and envy, all things I am exposed to through the Internet.

I tell myself all the things I can’t do rather than telling myself all the possibilities out there. Is that where I go wrong? I don’t know how to turn that around if it is.

And yet, and yet, and yet. I found recently this: The Postcard Project. I think, really, you could say I am struck speechless by this project. I want to help. I want to help create something beautiful for someone else. I don’t want to say ‘how’ out loud just yet: I don’t want to jinx my resolve. But I’m going to attempt to do something along the lines of the Postcard Project.

Baby steps.