of spreading the light; to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it.” – Edith Wharton

I have always loved this quote. And today I realized that I’m the mirror.

And. That. Sucks.

But it’s true. I wish more than anything that I could be inspiring instead of inspired. I can’t come up with any good ideas on my own. I’m reflecting the light when I scrap lift other peoples ideas. I’m reflecting the light when I look at a magazine and decide I want to wear a certain item of clothing. I’m reflecting the light when all my decorating ideas come from magazines. I’m reflecting the light when I knit something exactly like it is in picture. Nowhere in my life am I the candle.

I’m having a bad day. I was trying to make Christmas cards, but I only made one. ONE! I couldn’t come up with any ideas. Well, I came up with some ideas, but they weren’t mine.

We decorated our tree last night, but we only had about 10 ornaments, so I made some today. And they’re pretty. Everything I make is pretty.

I remember a few years ago, I read an article on Christina Aguilera in Rolling Stone. It was all about how she was changing her image (this was before the whole Xtina thing). She was getting piercings and what not. She was at a meeting with someone to pick out the cover for her new cd. Someone says to her, “What about this picture. You look very pretty.” And she says, “I hate pretty. F*ck the pretty.” That’s how I feel. Does that make sense? I want to be edgy and artistic and funky, but somehow I warp it and it becomes sensible and pretty.

That’s me. Sensible. I’m the Gap when I want to be Urban Outfitters. Or Anthropologie. There isn’t any edge to me. Not my clothes, not my hair, not my furniture, not my bedding. Not my scrapbooks. I’m so unoriginal!

I bet you Edith Wharton never had to question if she was the mirror. But I guess we need mirrors in this world just as much as we need candles, right?

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