This is an attempted group photo we blue rose girls tried to take of ourselves this weekend. The goal was to "take a picture with all of us and the cupcakes."
I made the cupcakes. Before I made them, I had grandiose schemes of piping professional-looking blue roses, awing everyone with my culinary expertise. However, as I began the attempt, I realized frosting roses were beyond my capabilities so down-graded to simple blue flowers. Yet, even trying to create the "simple" flowers was a challenge--the frosting was too soft, my kitchen too warm, my control was shaky and my time was limited. I remember being distinctly disapointed, feeling that my blue flowers resembled ameoba-like blue octopi. Yet, when I brought them to our blue rose girls weekend, it seemed as if everyone loved them and even I had to admit they were delicious. So, in the end, a nice warm sense of pride filled me.
And I realized, that is the epitome of my creative process. I always begin with dreams of creating a literary masterpiece; and, when faced by my own limitations, realize I can only do the best of my ability, which always seems to falls short. However, despite its flaws, it still finds ways of pleasing its audience; and even I appreciate what I've accomplished. And, in the end, I am proud of my creation.
But this weekend I realized one more thing. Perhaps all those imperfections are not flaws. Perhaps, like our failed, imperfect group photo, those are the things that make me love it even more.