I’ve never been good at painting, I don’t recall the last time I whipped out some color because I wanted to and not because I had to for an assignment at school.
And that’s quite sad considering the fact that in elementary school I had written that I wanted to become a “painter” when I grew up, only to be told that that’s not a legitimate profession, therefore I had to come up with something else.
During my time in high school, I took special art courses in order to prepare for art school entrance exams. I remember hating every second of it, especially the 3 hours in front of an easel causing me anxiety back when I didn’t even know what that word meant.
Our professor wasn’t very helpful, always comparing me to other students asking me why couldn’t I just paint like them? Me, being the logic and math-loving self that I was, would answer his question with even more questions.
“What do you mean? Do you mean like the colors? The brush strokes? The amount of paint? What is it???”
He would simply proclaim me helpless, declaring that my artwork had no soul and that painting was obviously not my strong suit. Whereas I do agree that my art, in fact, had no soul, telling that to a wannabe art student in front of the whole class… slightly questionable. How could my pieces have a soul when every time I picked up a brush I was told otherwise? Constantly compared to others with no actual guidance.
Needless to say, I came to despise everything associated with painting and art in general.
Also, needless to say, I didn’t pass the exams and did not get into art school.
A few years later, during one of the first lectures in my graphic design course, we were asked about the difference between art and design.
“Design has a purpose whereas art is self-indulgence.” I piped up feeling like Hermione earning praise.
Yes, that’s it, my art has no soul because I’m not an artist!
“I’m not an artist, I don’t make art” became my mantra, no, my excuse, rather.
And so we come back to current times, I’m struggling to reconnect with my inner creativity, trying to wake up the inner artist child who dreamt of becoming a painter and made art because it was… fun.
Not because it mattered, not because it was assigned, not because it got graded, not because they had to.
For the past 10+ years, art had stopped being fun for me, it was always a competition, that with myself and with those around me.
“The Artist’s Way” forced me to confront this anxiety attached to painting and art in general.
I was actively avoiding having to reach for my dusty box of acrylics while going through the tasks of week II, but I finally realized that facing these irrational fears was the whole point of going through the course presented by the book in the first place, so why not give it a shot?
I am aware that the piece above looks like a child’s finger painting, but you know what? That’s exactly what it is. My inner artist child playing around with colors just for the sake of having fun, just like they used to ages ago.
I'm finally out of that rut where I can't create anymore, but now it feels like everything I make doesn't have a soul. I lost they why in why I want to create, but I'm slowly able to fall back in love with the process.
I feel the pressure of the final product sometimes still, but I push through and still put my work out there. Hearing good things from the people I love is what keeps me going.
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