Sometimes it can be daunting to stare down at a brand new canvas. I get stuck and put off painting for weeks to avoid what could possibly be a waste of canvas. I don’t feel that same about a piece of jewelry or cutting wire. I don’t even feel this way when I mix oils and butter, or when it comes to cooking from scratch. But an all-white canvas can sometimes be daunting.
What I’ve come to learn is that this is me feeding into things I believe to be untrue. Why? Because I’ve allowed this narrative to control me for way too long. And it is time to say goodbye to it and every other negative word or speech I’ve harbored along with it.
A little over 10 years ago, I was in an abusive relationship. The kind that doesn’t leave visible marks and scars. But the kind that weasels it’s way into your heart and mind, and sows seeds of doubt, fear, and stagnation. My abuser always told me that I was a beautiful, kind, and amazing woman. What he would also go on to say, (and what would become his daily narrative), was that I was dumb, that no one liked my art and jewelry they were just being nice, that no one would spend money on the things that I created, and that I would never be worth anything or make a living at this... I really felt like I had messed up. Not only did I end up with this guy, but I had his baby, and now I’m stuck. I’m stuck right here in this place of dark, depressing... UUUUGGGHHH!!!
For years after leaving him, I held back. I only created enough not to get my feelings hurt. I only created enough to say that I was still creating pieces. I only created enough to say I tried something new. And I definitely only created just enough not to mess anything up. In that brief period, I had managed to go from feeling open and successful to fearing that I’d mess up anything I touched. I began to feel embarrassed that I had let him into my head. I began to feel embarrassed because, for years, people had said I made beautiful things but didn’t purchase much. I began to fear that the reason I didn’t have more or better was that I had messed it all up.
What had really taken place was, I had not found my own identity, yet. I had not found my tribe. I had not discovered my own rhythm. I was so busy trying to mimic what I saw around me, who I thought my parents wanted me to be, what I thought I was supposed to be, that I had not tapped into what made me unique. My own voice.
Today, I am pretty secure in who I am. I have worked to determine why my likes and dislikes are as they are. I am ok with saying I do not like or subscribe to (insert topic) as I’ve had a bad experience/ do not want/am not entertained/that’s not for me; I may revisit it, but for now, “issa” no. What I have come to learn is that it’s ok. There’s no damage done or an opportunity missed by saying, “Now is not the time, I have some work to do.” What I have come to accept is that life and art do indeed imitate one another as we often find ourselves having to try something afraid, while fearing the chaos, all while fearing the response from others. And that’s fine. Because just like I’m able to tear a new sheet of canvas paper off the pad (a small investment that helps me move past the what-ifs), I get a new day that’s a blank canvas.
What have you been afraid of messing u? What tools did you use to move past that time or feeling?