So, I’ve been mucking about with this idea, this whole “secret life of a mermaid” thing. Sounds a bit daft, I know, but stick with me. It wasn’t like I woke up one day and decided to sprout a tail. It was more of a slow burn, a little escape I started carving out for myself.
Getting Started: More Than Just Scales
First off, I had to figure out what this “mermaid life” even meant for me. It’s not like you can just order a starter kit, is it? I started sketching, mostly terrible drawings, mind you. Then I rummaged through old boxes. Found some shiny fabrics, bits of netting, things I’d kept for no good reason. You know how it is. My garage started looking less like a place to park the car and more like a very confused craft store.
I figured the tail was key. My first few attempts? Total disasters. One looked like a deflated rubber chicken that had a fight with a sequin factory. Seriously. Lots of trial and error. Lots of glue, bits of silicone I probably shouldn’t have bought, and more glitter than any sane person should own.
- Figuring out the fin shape – harder than it looks.
- Making it swimmable, or at least not immediately sink.
- Not making it look completely ridiculous (still working on that one, ha!).
Finding the ‘Life’ Part
But it wasn’t just about the costume. It was about the feeling, you know? The “secret” bit. So, I started scouting. Early mornings, usually. Found a little quiet spot down by the river, another by a small, forgotten lake. Places where you wouldn’t get too many folks walking their dogs and giving you funny looks. Though, I got a few of those anyway.
Trying to move in the water, even with a makeshift tail, is a workout. And cold! Even in what passes for summer around here. But there was something about it. The quiet, the water, just being… different. Away from the usual grind.
So, Why All This Mermaid Business?
Right, you’re probably thinking, “This fella’s lost his marbles.” And maybe I have, a bit. Here’s the thing. Last year, my regular work life, it just went into overdrive. You know the score – crazy deadlines, constant pressure, staring at a screen until my eyes felt like sandpaper. I was completely burned out. Done. Cooked.
I’d come home, and I was just… empty. Couldn’t focus on telly, couldn’t read. My partner said I was like a zombie. It was bad. I really needed something, anything, that wasn’t about spreadsheets or client calls. Something for me. Something that didn’t have a performance review attached to it.
It was actually when I was clearing out the shed, trying to make some space, that this whole idea sparked. Found a box of old art supplies, some weird shimmery paint. And then, bam, this image of a mermaid popped into my head. Not the cutesy cartoon kind, but something a bit more… elemental, I suppose. It was just a thought, but it wouldn’t leave me alone.
That’s when the garage became mermaid HQ. My partner, well, they were… patient. Mostly. There were a few raised eyebrows when the silicone orders started arriving. And the glitter. Oh, the glitter. It gets everywhere. Everywhere.
What It’s Become
So, this “secret life” isn’t about actually being a mermaid. It’s my little rebellion, I guess. My way of switching off. I’ve even got a cheap waterproof camera now, trying to get some interesting shots underwater. They’re mostly blurry, but it’s fun.
It’s the making of it, the quiet moments by the water, the feeling of creating something a bit magical, even if it’s just for an hour or two. It pulled me out of that slump, gave my brain something else to chew on. And yeah, it’s still a bit secret. But I figured, why not share a bit of the process? Maybe someone else needs to find their own version of a sparkly, slightly leaky tail.
