As I’ve searched my newfound favorite way to past the time while nursing, I’ve been doing some pretty hefty soul searching.  As I compile achievable ideas upon ideas for cooking, for organization, for decor, for beauty, I begin to doubt all of its very achievability.  Such and such a project may seem so easy – but I do not have any grosgrain ribbon in my house.  This recipe looks fantastic – but I do not have any rutabaga.  This thing is lovely – but I do not know how to stitch.  And then, the one that trumps all else: it all looks great, but I do not have any time.

We all dream, but we dream of things that we wish we could have, or that for which we wish we had all the perfect pieces.

And, in the end, is it really “My Style” if I never have the guts to wear it?  Is it really “For the Home” if I could never afford it?  Is it really “Books I’ll Read” if I will never, ever read them?

And so I’ve done limiting myself with imperfection.  I pin the beautiful things, but I’m going to create them, too.

But I’m going to create them imperfectly.  With shortcuts for the time and the pieces that I lack.

I’m wearing the beautiful Anthro shirt – with tennis shoes because I have to run errands.  I’m cooking the dish – but I’m substituting half the ingredients with the stuff I have.  I’m organizing my pantry – but without painting and stenciling the walls to make it look pretty.  I’m making a bunting banner – with frayed edges and thread holding it together.

Did I want this to be made with gorgeous scarves, tied together with ribbon, double sided, hemmed, and hung from pretty pins?  Yes.

What is it?  Some fabric I bought over the summer cut into triangles… some no-sew iron-on hemming tape… some thread… and some nails in the wall.  Oh, and some hot glue holding the thing together because I accidentally snipped it in half at one point.

Is it perfect?  Of course not.  Is it colorful?  Yes.  Is it it happy?  Yes.  Is it beautiful?  If you look through my eyes.