So, I have to admit something: I am a closet artist. Shhhh…I never call myself that in public. Kind of like when people ask me what I do in life and really what I do is write and yet I would never describe myself as a writer to them. It’s just not how I see myself.
But then tonight I did the strangest thing. I was Facebooking (is that actually an acceptible verb now?) with my young cousin Jenna, who seems to share at only 12 young years old the same passions I did for horses ( and all animals) and writing, so we are becoming fast friends. I gave her one of my horses to ride and take care of because well…because if I was a 12 year old girl with a distant cousins with a horse farm, I would sure be praying to Jesus or Shiva or Zeus even for a horse to magically appear for me! I would have tried it all! And I could sense she was like me. Why not make my dreams come true for someone else. Mine are all here anyways 🙂
So, in my conversations with her, we begin to talk about writing and other forms of creative stuff we do, and she tells me about her drawings; Unicorns, butterflies and beautiful things…ahhh I remember those days.
So for fun I decided to take some pictures of my sketches to show her old people still do art heh :). I downloaded them from my annoying blackberry onto my desktop and tadaa…all of a sudden through the magic of technology MY ART was staring at me right in the face on this ENORMOUS computer screen. My head said:
“Ew”. That was all I heard.
At first I only heard all the negative judgement in my head. A snap reaction born of habit…that I fully intend to dump in the muck pile for all it’s worth. But the feeling inside me looking at those pictures I had sketched out really quite recently was quite horrible. There was an awful lot of emotion in those drawings, and frankly it’s one thing to feel it, and quite another to stare it in the face. Maybe my brain just didn’t like how it perhaps “re-felt” the events that cause me to draw these dreamscapes. Really I don’t know, and my older age 🙂 is teaching me to stop analyzing everything all the time. Just SEE THINGS AS THEY ARE. Man…I have been so busy in my head. Then I started thinking about Jenna’s happy unicorn and noseless women, and concluded that I had become very dark and unchildlike. In those first moments I really was seeing all that I felt I had lost. My youth, my “joie de vivre” and my panache and ability in drawing “care Bears and such. Where had all the flowers gone?
My sketches looked eerie and frankly, insane. I have always admires the “dream artists” as I call them, van Gogh, Dahli, Picasso etc…they were right up my alley. My favourite writer when I was young? Yup you guessed it…Edgar Allen Poe. The Raven himself. Man I was dramatic.
But now, I look at these sketches and I see the same penchant for dreams and fantasy, but I firgure these pictures probably tell me as much or more about myself than my writing can. Aince I believe it is our ultimate duty in life (the only one really) to figure ourselves out so we can be of greates use to each other, then I figured I’d better get objective and less critical about my art and start top use it as the tool it as meant for by god. That’sd it…simple. And my6 perception immediately shifted.
All of a sudden I began to see shapes and landscapes emerging where I know I didn’t consciously intend them as I was drawing. Suddenly I saw purpose and feeling and emotion all wrapped up in little lines that spoke of some pretty interesting ideas.
I was loving this art!
So, then I DARED myself.
The little conversation in my head went somethign like this…
“Um Jo, put it on your blog. Maybe someone else will like it too?” Said Big Me
“Are you kidding! Then people might SEE it. Gawd.” Replied Little Me with an over the shoulder, “you’re an idiot” back glance.
“It’s a visual expression…it does no good just being throw away by you in your 6 month “clean ups” as you call them. Just post them and write about why you drew them. Then they are at least useful to someone”.
“Ahh I get it”, said Little Me. Right.
So, I’m posting these sketches and trying to unravel abit more of my own mystery.