Just like a child

Why was it so much easier for us to utilize our creativity as children? When did we develop the crippling inhibitions that prevent us from living and loving art?

When I was young, I would have described myself as an artist and nothing more. Now, I am intimidated. I feel as though I am not worthy. It is this feeling that has given me the terrible writer's block I have been suffering through for years now. It wasn't always this way. There have been times in my life when I was able to sit and write, when ideas overflowed my brain and I couldn't write them down fast enough. This led me to become a faster typist and a more composed speaker. I embraced the speed of the ideas and learned to cope with them and later use them to my advantage.

It is not as though I lack ideas. My mind is always creating stories, both imagined and true. I pull from the experiences around me and tell myself stories constantly. So why don't I write them down? I have been embarrassed and nervous about what I would create. I have this feeling as I go along that what I am writing is not good enough. I wonder constantly what type of audience I am writing for, if my words were published, what kind of person would buy them, where would it be reviewed? I am stopped from creating by the thought that what I will create will not be good enough. This is completely wrong. I need to write for myself, because the stories are inside me and need to be let out. The stories themselves deserve to be written and I deserve to empty my head of them. I need to create simply for the pure joy of the creation process and the feeling that I get from it.

Last night I painted two pictures, not to create something worthy of a museum or of accolades from friends and family, but simply to enjoy color and the pure tactile feeling of the brushes in hand. I had a difficult time doing this, I'll admit, and my self-consciousness almost go the better of me, but I fought through it. I definitely need to work on letting go of my obsession with creating something that meets the standards of others and simply enjoy the process. This is true art creation.

The best part was that when Josh called me to say that he was on his way home, he asked me what I was doing, and I was able to tell him that I was painting. He was happy for me. He was tickled at the paintings I made, and wanted to hang them up. He was genuinely happy that I was doing something that made me happy. It was just the support and affirmation that I needed. I went to bed with a smile.