Brush Strokes

For most of my life, I've never thought of myself as a creative person. I can't draw or paint, or even doodle, to save my life. Put a blank piece of paper and some colors of any kind - paints, crayons, pens, or markers - in front of me and my mind goes blank too. Though I don't have the "skills", I've always dreamed of being able to create something beautiful. Thankfully, over the last few months and years, I've slowly learned that talent in any creative pursuit, including art, is not something that you are either blessed with or not - and can't be changed - but rather something that, like most other things in life, simply takes practice.

Over the last few weeks, I've really wanted to sit down with my watercolours and create something. After talking myself out of it many times - as I always do unfortunately, especially with things in which I have little or no experience - this weekend I finally did. Unsurprisingly, in the beginning I didn't like what was showing up on my paper at all, and I almost wanted to give in and quit a few times. I kept going though and, by the end, I was so happy I did, because I really love the finished piece. It's no work of art by any means, but looking at it makes me smile, and that's all I ever want from something I create.

That day, I remembered for the first time in a very long time a beautiful part of my childhood. Back then, I loved painting and whenever I felt like it, I would take out my watercolours and paper, and start mixing colors and filling the white space with them, without even a thought of not being talented enough or fear of creating something ugly ever crossing my mind. That's what I want right now too - that childlike spirit and openness to whatever is about to emerge, and trust that something - anything - will indeed emerge.