New Life
So much has changed since my last post, and yet in a way nothing has changed. I am still seeking balance within myself. I am still trying to figure out what life and living is. The one answer I have found to be true is that I wasn't being true to myself. Due to that real failing towards myself I couldn't be much for anyone else around me. The past couple of months I have made tough decisions for the betterment of all. Some have called those decisions selfish - but if they had walked in my shoes and saw and felt what I felt they may or may not have made the same decisions. I don't posses any mind other than my own - and therefore cannot make any decisions beyond those I feel are the best for myself and my children at the time the decision is made.
As a result of those decisions I sit in my own place, an apartment I now call home filled with light and color. There has been a series of emotional battles fought upon these floors - all within my own mind and heart. At first I could not touch pencil to paper without tears. I could not gaze upon my paints without fear. My canvases sat blank as they have for the past several years, and my insane amounts of pads of paper sat unopened in the corner of my room. It was a total shock to see just HOW many art supplies I had collected in the attempt to prepare to create something, anything. I have been hoarding and stashing supplies for years - waiting. Every clearance sale and garage sale was the opportunity to collect more, and they would go into piles that would collect dust until the next clearance sale. It's mind boggling actually.
I did create - I have a website filled with finished and framed images. Every image was a tough battle to pursue an image that showed itself on the page. To chase it's outline and details and nail them down before fear took over, or doubt, or life got to busy or any amount of excuses that threatened to make the image just another half finished unfinished piece. I have boxes filled with such. I have portfolios filled with experiments and doodles and some finished pieces too. The attempt to show the world I really am an artist, and once in awhile I would add a new image to show progress into that dream without actually pursuing it with the heart and soul I truly wanted to. Don't get me wrong - every finished piece, every sketch, every attempt at something new added to my arsenal of skills and knowledge. I don't regret a single line or paint stroke. What I regret is that I only partially half lived the dream I wanted to and let fear and doubt drown my attempts so many times.
This brave new world is frightening - odd - when I was a teen there was nothing that could stop me from conquering anything that crossed my path. Now I fear the future due to it's uncertainties. I hope to embrace my younger views with my older and more experienced knowledge. To start being true to myself, my dreams, my wishes and hopes. I don't want to be afraid to find out just what I can do anymore, nor do I want to make excuses for why I am not drawing an hour a day. Those are goals I have written down and taped to my bathroom mirror. It's a start.
I have drawn - dragons seem to be filling the pages in my sketch book. Some cute, some fierce, some just basic. Regardless of their basic structure - I find the fierceness they carry, their humor, and ageless wisdom, somehow comforting. I may not be able to predict life tomorrow, a week from now or a year from now. I can however plan to draw as many dragons as I can fit unto the pages of my sketch books. Learning bone structure, muscle structure and the intricacies that they hold. When I get bored with that I will move onto whatever catches my fancy. I have commissions that have waited years to be filled - another goal I have is to find the faith to finish them with such beauty and grace that the wait is worth it.
When I started this journal it was intended to record the progress I made as an artist. To show those that read it that I am as human as they are and that if they wished to pursue their dreams it was entirely possible. Not only possible, but worth every step toward that dream. I hope to make that happen now with this journal. It is not intended for personal jabber about the drama's of life - but instead for the journey I take as an artist. My successes, failures, attempts and experiments. I am just one woman - with an insane amount of paper begging to be turned into something more fun than the polar bear in a snowstorm look. I have whimsical images begging to be brought into the light to play with the viewer. I have serious images that may tug at the heart. I have romantic and nude art I wish to present as beautiful and tasteful - if not a tad on the playful side. It's time to begin, stop making excuses, and see if I can't jump into the drivers seat of this dream I've held since I was a child - to be an artist.
As a result of those decisions I sit in my own place, an apartment I now call home filled with light and color. There has been a series of emotional battles fought upon these floors - all within my own mind and heart. At first I could not touch pencil to paper without tears. I could not gaze upon my paints without fear. My canvases sat blank as they have for the past several years, and my insane amounts of pads of paper sat unopened in the corner of my room. It was a total shock to see just HOW many art supplies I had collected in the attempt to prepare to create something, anything. I have been hoarding and stashing supplies for years - waiting. Every clearance sale and garage sale was the opportunity to collect more, and they would go into piles that would collect dust until the next clearance sale. It's mind boggling actually.
I did create - I have a website filled with finished and framed images. Every image was a tough battle to pursue an image that showed itself on the page. To chase it's outline and details and nail them down before fear took over, or doubt, or life got to busy or any amount of excuses that threatened to make the image just another half finished unfinished piece. I have boxes filled with such. I have portfolios filled with experiments and doodles and some finished pieces too. The attempt to show the world I really am an artist, and once in awhile I would add a new image to show progress into that dream without actually pursuing it with the heart and soul I truly wanted to. Don't get me wrong - every finished piece, every sketch, every attempt at something new added to my arsenal of skills and knowledge. I don't regret a single line or paint stroke. What I regret is that I only partially half lived the dream I wanted to and let fear and doubt drown my attempts so many times.
This brave new world is frightening - odd - when I was a teen there was nothing that could stop me from conquering anything that crossed my path. Now I fear the future due to it's uncertainties. I hope to embrace my younger views with my older and more experienced knowledge. To start being true to myself, my dreams, my wishes and hopes. I don't want to be afraid to find out just what I can do anymore, nor do I want to make excuses for why I am not drawing an hour a day. Those are goals I have written down and taped to my bathroom mirror. It's a start.
I have drawn - dragons seem to be filling the pages in my sketch book. Some cute, some fierce, some just basic. Regardless of their basic structure - I find the fierceness they carry, their humor, and ageless wisdom, somehow comforting. I may not be able to predict life tomorrow, a week from now or a year from now. I can however plan to draw as many dragons as I can fit unto the pages of my sketch books. Learning bone structure, muscle structure and the intricacies that they hold. When I get bored with that I will move onto whatever catches my fancy. I have commissions that have waited years to be filled - another goal I have is to find the faith to finish them with such beauty and grace that the wait is worth it.
When I started this journal it was intended to record the progress I made as an artist. To show those that read it that I am as human as they are and that if they wished to pursue their dreams it was entirely possible. Not only possible, but worth every step toward that dream. I hope to make that happen now with this journal. It is not intended for personal jabber about the drama's of life - but instead for the journey I take as an artist. My successes, failures, attempts and experiments. I am just one woman - with an insane amount of paper begging to be turned into something more fun than the polar bear in a snowstorm look. I have whimsical images begging to be brought into the light to play with the viewer. I have serious images that may tug at the heart. I have romantic and nude art I wish to present as beautiful and tasteful - if not a tad on the playful side. It's time to begin, stop making excuses, and see if I can't jump into the drivers seat of this dream I've held since I was a child - to be an artist.
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