Lately I've been doing some artwork - acrylic on canvas.
I'm pissed off.
I just finished an abstract 8x11 and I want to cry.
Here's my internal dialogue:
Why did I pick that colour? It's ugly. Maybe someone will like it - I sure as hell don't. I just wasted my time. It was so pretty, then I messed it up. I hate this. Why am I even doing this? Maybe I'll get famous. If I could just figure out how to put the right colours together, then it might be worthy of showing it off.
Funny, I keep walking by my artwork, hoping it will change, hoping I'll love it all of a sudden. As I was painting and swirling and mixing colours, I couldn't stop my mind from wondering if someone else would like it. Part of me felt that it wasn't worth doing if another person wasn't going to love it.
The thing is, the process of creating my painting was so much fun. I almost cried happy tears as I experienced feelings of sheer joy and satisfaction. It wasn't until I brought the idea of someone else into the mix, that I got all pissy.
It's a process.
I want to do more. I want to get to a place where I let my creativity flow through me without holding back, without questioning whether it's right or wrong.
At the end of one of my yoga DVDs, the instructor says, self-acceptance is one of the highest practices.
Yeah, and it's one of the most difficult!
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