Tuesday, April 2, 2013

you are made of yes



I joined several lovely ladies for a painting class one evening recently, and it rekindled my passion for painting and creating art. Over the last couple of years, I’ve replaced my paintbrushes with a baby. And though I have absolutely no regret in that decision, I’ve rediscovered a piece of me that I’ve somewhat lost.


One of the things I have to practice is saying yes to being me. Having “me” time. The farther away things are my from family time, the more likely I am to say no. I'm learning to get around this impulse. I try to change my automatic internal dialogue into something more hopeful. Hopeful that I will able to find more time in my schedule to fulfill my creative needs.

I have found that the process of creativity is a very fluid one. When you are creative, it feels unstoppable, as if it could go on forever and never end. This is just who you are. A creative machine. Though, it does not mean you are always confident in what you create. Taking chances is part of the territory. Every blank page is the chance to make a masterpiece. Or a disaster.

Learning to get out there, becoming comfortable with the risk,
trying things that you've never done before... facing your fears... this is part of being an artist. This is part of being a human, actually. It's a hard lesson, and sometimes you have to relearn it.



You are made of yes. You are made of growth and fertility and creativity.

What are you hiding from out of fear? What could you say yes to that might change your life? What chances could you take that would open up possibilities for you? Where could you be brave. Practice saying yes everyday to something that scares you. You might be surprised at how your world can bloom.

Notice how different my painting is from the instructor’s? From the entire class. It doesn't matter that I didn’t like the plain red flowers?  Or that they sorta reminded me of roses. And roses I don’t like.

What matters is I went all the way in and trusted my abilities and my judgment and gave it a go. What matters is I took it to the end of the journey and didn't give up. What matters is that I made it. I thought of it, dreamed it, planned it, trouble shot it, detailed it, put it all together and then put it out into the world. I mean, gave it to my husband.

Make a craft. Construct a painting. Cook a meal. Knit a hat. Write a novel. Decorate a home. Develop a business. Make a life. Create yourself. Those things are not you, and yet, the making of them makes you.

What are you making?

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