For weeks I had been storing away magazines. Some bought for the articles and others freebies. I dismantled a cardboard box carrying one of my many Amazon orders and put aside a large brown canvas. I then left feedback advising that the packaging had definitely been overkill. The magazines and cardboard lay side by side on the guest bed. I threw myself into the preparation. I bought a set of craft scissors with wiggly teeth that created different edging, glue sticks, glitter glue, stickers and a spa candle. Standing back with hands on hips I basked in the comfort that by acquiring these things I would soon take steps to set myself goals and provide prompts to keep me focused on my aspirations.

Six weeks ago I attended a 2-day coaching course. I had seen an advert in one of my magazines and it had leapt off the page at me. I was at a crossroads and I had neither a map nor compass. I felt as though I was drifting aimlessly, getting caught up with the small stuff – over analytical and self critical. The course had given me much food for thought some of which I shovelled down and some I put to the side. The concept of vision boards resonated strongly with me. A combination of the creative potential and also the visual element really appealed. I left the conference room determined to set about making my own board to put up in my kitchen. A visual aid to keep me focused and to avoid self sabotage. To date all I had done was introduce more ‘stuff’ into my already cramped flat and prevent the guest bed from being used without having to create Jenga – like piles in front of the wardrobe.

On the way home from work one Friday I decided that I would put aside time at the weekend to crack on with the job at hand. I stopped off along the way to buy a bottle of my favourite prosecco – it went straight in the fridge. On the Saturday afternoon I exclaimed to myself that the procrastination had to stop. I threw open the window in the front room and piled the dining table with my craft materials. I prepared my work space – lighting the candle and positioning it within my eyeline. I filled a glass with cool crisp bubbles and relished the tingle on my tongue. Here we go.

I cut and pasted my way through the afternoon and into the late evening. My cheeks were rosy from the wine and sparkly from the glitter, which seemed to be everywhere. The room was filled with the scent of the candle – sweet orange and rosemary. Pieces of magazine – like confetti- surrounded me. I propped my creation against the empty prosecco bottle and stood back to admire it – it was beautiful. Unable to wait I went to the kitchen and drunkenly hammered a picture hook into the wall. My creation hung a little crooked and I didn’t care. I gazed at it in the same way that I would a painting in a gallery. I remembered why I had chosen every picture, colour and letter. Feeling tired I headed to bed, deciding to sleep in the guest bed – it felt symbolic some how. Making room for me.

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Amanda Bird

Amanda has always thought of herself as an armchair traveller, and since early childhood books and stories have provided the portal to other worlds. Her love of reading sparked a passion for writing and she has been writing stories since... a very long time ago! She now lives in Hove, and the view allows space for her imagination to roam.

Latest posts by Amanda Bird (see all)

• N7 - 27/07/16
• Doesn’t Dance Well With Others - 26/03/16
• Hunting High and Low - 15/02/16
• A Point of View - 09/02/16
• The Naked Truth - 04/02/16