Month: January 2013

credo

I sat down to sketch, but able to draw no more than a blank, I consulted the internet for a prompt. I came across a prompt to write out five of my core beliefs, then illustrate one of them. What resulted was more of a top ten ideas by which I live. Below–in no really particular order–are the first things that came to mind in a roughly 20-minute window.

  1.  I believe in a loving Creator who designed us beautifully to be His imitators.

  2. I believe that Christ is the Son of God, who gave His life to save a f***ed up and otherwise irredeemable world.

  3. I believe that people are more important than ideas. Ideas, while important, are useless in a vacuum. I believe in social justice because people are basically good and worth saving (otherwise, of what value is belief #2?).

  4. I believe in hard work and integrity–being excellent when no one is looking.

  5. I believe that we ought to be good stewards of our planet, living as simply and naturally as possible.

  6. I believe in a limited government, by the people and for the people.

  7. I believe that honesty is always the best policy. The truth wins out in the end, and it is better to err on the side of greater good.

  8. I believe there is tremendous power in beauty.

  9. (I am in the process of believing) many failed attempts are necessary steps toward excellence. The only true failure is inaction. If you show up to the task, rewards will follow, even if the initial outcome (or several hundred outcomes) are not what you had desired.

  10. I believe that all thought and action must be motivated by love (ultimately of God, and everything else for the sake of loving Him). I create because I love. I do the best I can at my job because I love. I seek justice because I love. I vote because I love. I enjoy the fruits of the earth because I love. I have arguments with my husband because I love. I believe in being unpopular and respectfully disagreeing with others out of love. I show up to the daily tasks of life and hope it will eventually result in goodness, truth and beauty because all that stirs me to move and breathe and be is love. As a citizen of this world longing for the next, I know no other stimulus to continue in the task of being human.

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freedom & frustration

How is it that I can be faced with all the freedom in the world, and respond with nothing but fear and frustration?

I am coming to realize more and more that I lack motivation out of a sense of guilt and/or duty. I always feel that I ought to be doing something other than my own work, and that I must have express permission to do what I would like to do.

I have the whole day to myself, and have been encouraged to do art all day without feeling any guilt whatsoever about not doing anything else (like making things that others have requested, or cleaning the house). So I’m up at dawn, having set up my art supplies the night before. I sit at my art desk with everything accessible, dog curled up at my feet, Radio Paradise on low.

But…eeesh. There’s a blank canvas staring at me. That’s daunting. Paint. I have an idea of what I’d like to do, but I still don’t know if I’m quite ready for that just yet. Maybe I’ll warm up a bit by doodling with markers in my sketchbook. This is proving to be not so fruitful either.

Suddenly I find myself crying. Then crying becomes sobbing. Deep, hard sobs.

What has happened? What’s wrong with me? What is this deep-seated frustration and why can I not simply draw some colorful poppies? I don’t know the specifics, but I think the freedom is too much for me to handle. I don’t know where to begin. I don’t know in what medium I feel comfortable. Just sitting down to “create something” is too tall of an order. Too lofty. Too vague. I have my choice of any medium, but I’m daunted by all of them. I’m not even sure that it’s a fear of failure or imperfection that stunts the creative flow.

I fear that my medium is here on the page, which is why I’m writing until the urge to cry subsides. But facing this fear and telling myself that I’m perfectly capable of creating whatever I want to create only makes me more emotional.

I don’t think it’s the fear of NOT being able to do something that makes me tearful. It’s accepting positive thoughts about myself and my abilities that always prove unbearably touching. I can handle criticism like a champ, but compliments and beauty undo me. In wanting to participate in everything creative and beautiful, I find myself completely frozen. I desperately want to accept permission from myself as readily as from others. I wish I knew what I ought to do. And I feel silly that these are the questions floating around in the cocktail of doubt that is my subconscious. I guess I just wish I were a stronger person with a stronger sense of direction.

My solution for today will be to take refuge in some good music & coffee, cuddle with the pup, and write until I have something worthy to commit to paper on my beautiful Remington. Surely this is the stuff of inspiration.

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