Image from allposters.comYears ago, as a teenager, I defined myself as an artist. I would hole up in my room and draw for hours. If I wasn't drawing, I was writing. I would escape the house and go to the park with a sketchbook or journal. I stopped writing the day my mother brought out my journal and picked a page and proceeded to read it, at the dinner table, with guests present. It was mortifying. That was 30 years ago. I have only just started writing again.
The most freedom I ever felt as an artist was during my stay at boarding school. I drew all the time. There was a lot of time to fill and I spent most of it in the basement classroom/studio playing with paints and charcoal. It was so liberating.
That all got packed away when I left for university then on to my first job. Then my next job, and the next, then my determination to prove myself got in the way of any free time. I worked crazy hours and escaped my personal daemons by partying just as hard as I worked. The charcoal, paper, paints, coloured pencils, brushes and sponges became a memory. Quickly forgotten in the time warp of career, travel, alcohol, relationships and general chaos.
Then I became a mum, having four kids in five years makes you realize that you actually did have free time when you thought you couldn't be any busier. Even though I hadn't created in years before their arrival I felt it leave: my imagination, my passion, my interest, it completely disappeared. The creative juices refused to flow. I was deserted. It was the saddest time for me.
Slowly, through photography and scrapbooking, and now writing and a remarkable number of on-line courses, I have re-built my curiosity, my drive, my creativity. The passion has returned! And with it has come guilt: the fear of being selfish. The fear that now is "my time" and I'll have to put it off, again.
So, go watch the clip. At this point you will understand the tears.
5 comments:
Okay, so I just got back from the link and clicking, clicking, clicking...Aghhhhhhhhh! It was all so good.
I actually had a cry worked up in my throat before I actually left your post. Just reading what you felt. I know I have something inside me that has been called to create. I can feel it. I've said it before. I just can't seem to bring it to the surface and it's so frustrating. I do think it's because of the all the clutter in my head, my life... I feel a blog post coming on...
Thank you, Lee. Seriously.
{hug} Not a pat you on the back while I am pulling away hug but a firm embrace. We have all lost our way at one point or another but the important and sometimes better thing is that we find our way - and it may not be the "same" way as before but a better brighter new way because now we understand.
Although I always felt the need to create I never felt I could call myself an artist - it seemed so blod - no I was just "crafty" always holding myself up to others and most of the time failing in my own eyes. That is all changing - it is all new and all good :)
Thanks for your lovely post.
Thank you for sharing your thoughts on this. I am glad that link connected with you!! Have fun on this journey!!
WOW! What a powerful clip and so true. You got me in tears as well.
It's so funny as I was reading your blog I saw my self in it. That was me, hey I used to do that as a kid. I have saved notebooks with stories that I have written. Paintings that I did in high school. But they are all put away. Non of them are on display or even in a frame, but wrapped and put away in my closet. My now friends don't even know that part about me. That's sad...
Thanks for such a beautiful and inspiring post!!!
Nadya
Thank you for sharing that clip. It says so much about women in general. You could easily replace artist with any number of things and have similar feelings/thoughts.
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