I'm feeling like a paper shredder

You know how oil paint on the surface of water marbles in a random kaleidoscope of swirling colour.  I think that’s how ideas and creativity forms in the mind.  Sooner or later there’s a combination, a merge of colour that seemingly randomly forms into a pattern and design that satisfies and excites.  However, if you add too much paint, force, manipulate and mix a lot, the mix becomes dull.  It needs room to circulate and flow freely.  I think the latter is how I’m feeling.  I’m feeling like my paper shredder when, in my impatience to save time, I try to shove a whole clump of paper in at once and it always results in everything grinding to a complete halt.

Two weeks of school Easter holidays was not conducive to any kind of creativity.  I need head space in which to allow these ideas to swirl and develop.  The seeds are there but they don’t grow.  My head feels disjointed, full of fragments that need free flow to flourish but instead become unresolved irritation that given space could develop, like the oyster shell’s grit irritations grow into beautiful pearls - given enough time.  All I want to do is indulge unrestricted and give expression to this world inside my head, but thoughts are never allowed to fully form, instead the flow is constantly punctuated and interrupted by banal thoughts of home life practicalities and chores and now it seems school chores too.  I feel a burdening weight of writing tasks, research and presentation.  The presentation has the added weight of nerves attached, awakening my most potent phobia.  The small sense of relief I had at almost completing preparation for it has now gone and instead, frustration at now receiving details of criteria that I have not met. Talking about art but never doing any.  I’m finding it near to impossible to relax into any creativity when I know these other things have to be done, (there’s too much paint being added and mixed, too much paper being shoved in).  I feel the pressure of time, something always in short supply, and when I think of tackling these other things, my head presents me with a very tall blank wall.  So like the shredder I feel I’ve ground to a halt.