Learning When to Give In
Hmmmm...I don't have much to say these days. In fact, my blog has appeared a little bit sparse lately. Hint Jewelry is keeping me busy, and I've also developed a sinus infection that seems to be affecting my eyesight. So if my cyber silence seems distant, it's just that I'm off being an elf and trying to keep things light this season.
In the meantime, I thought I might share one of my pivotal creative moments during my 120 day drawing challenge. Back on Day 58, I sort of lost it. I couldn't think of anything to draw and in my head all I wanted to draw was a picture that everyone was taught as a child -- house on a hill with a tree and some clouds in the sky. Oh, maybe a pond with a duck or a family to go with this scene, but really all I wanted to do was draw the house. The feeling was so intense that I imagined that if I drew this house every day, I would feel completely satisfied. Like someone who needs a cup of coffee to perk up in the morning, I needed to draw this picture every day to feel happy. So I gave in and drew it. This house is the most satisfying picture I've drawn yet.
The logical part of me is completely embarrassed by the simplicity of my action, but my childlike curiosity is totally enthralled with the beauty of the act. How often do we let our over rationalized, judgmental brains dictate what we are suppose to do in terms of being creative? How often do we miss out on personal pleasure simply because we don't follow what we are really wanting and do what we think is acceptable to others?
It's only in the last couple centuries that being creative has been equated with having to be unique. It was a rationalized mind that decided that to be valued as a human being a creative act must be one that has never existed before.
On Day 58, I'm pretty sure I saw my modern, rational brain give in to something more primitive. The empty mind, the one that doesn't care if I'm unique but just enjoys the simple pleasure of making its mark.