I am writing a book and it is difficult, exhilarating, frustrating, enlightening and the thing I can not not do so therefore I plug along, even when I’m not doing it, I’m thinking about it, shaping it and knowing it’s the right next pebble in my path. What I’m most passionate about sharing this exact moment, is that everyone, EVERY ONE, is an artist, creator, maker and not everyone needs to manufacturer their hobby to be considered a success, but whatever the Thing is, the gnawing, niggling, itch you must scratch no matter what, that is the thing you must follow no matter what. That is where the joy lies. It has been my experience that the overwhelm in too big of a project is enough to put it on ice for…a decade? You laugh, but I know what the unused art supplies look like…I have that closet no guests are allowed to look at. Bottom line, you must do one tiny thing at a time.
Which is why I’m writing about it, doing something about it, addressing it. How do you do it? How do you plug your socket into joy? How do you paint one corner of a canvas when your art looks like a ransom note but your heart wants it to look like Matisse? How do you write an entire book when you can barely write one blog post? You practice. I practice. When I first started painting with my mentor-friend-human being extraordinaire, she casually mentioned that one needs to paint for three years before they know what kind of painter they are. Um…? Three years? I was hoping for three weeks. I listened to that comment, did not want it to be true, filed it away in the mmmm-hmmmm, we’ll see about that box, and painted away like a fool. Guess what? She’s right. Three years later, I’m here to report that I have made improvements, I did not graduate to become the kind of painter who shows in fine art galleries, but I have developed a style unique to me and an aesthetic that is my own voice and sell quite a few paintings. I have miles and miles and highways ahead of me to practice and develop but she was right in that it requires practice. And practice is code for mistakes. Ugly. Ugh. What’s the point. Really? What was I thinking? And then, occasionally, the sweet, oh, I didn’t expect that. Wow. Fun. Really? I’m glad I didn’t over-think that.
Progress not perfection. Ciao Bella. xo