A couple of weeks ago I received an email requesting artwork for a silent auction fundraiser for a local non-profit agency. The subject line began “Call to Artists ….”
My first reaction: “I am NOT an artist!” I deleted the email.
Within a few minutes, I searched my trash and undeleted the email so I could send it to some local artist friends. Afterward, I deleted it.
The next day, I was back rummaging through my trash. Clearly I was disturbed by this email! I began thinking, “Maybe … just MAYBE … I’ll contribute something.”
And then: “Oh, no! I can’t.” I decidedly punched DELETE.
At my art lesson, I told my teacher about the email, emphatic about my decision not to participate.
“Why not?” she asked. “You could do something. You’re ready.”
“Oh, no!” I blurted. “I’m not an artist! I can’t paint on command. I’m just playing around. I’m just learning. I haven’t a clue what I’m doing!”
I was so adamant, so sure. My heels were dug in, and I wasn’t moving!
My art teacher (who is also a talented art therapist) gently encouraged me to look a little deeper at what was going on. Before my lesson-turned-session was over, I began recognizing the extent of my resistance.
For the next 24 hours I was deep in process, but I couldn’t quite figure out the emotions of it all.
Then I watched Session 1 of an online webinar: “The Power of Vulnerability,” by Brené Brown.
As Brené talked about people trying their hardest to fit in, to be accepted, to be liked, I began to understand. She said that when we try our hardest and then fail to be accepted, the result is shame. We think, “I did everything I knew how to do! There must be something wrong with me!”
I realized there was some part of me that needed to try her hardest to create a painting that people would like. Deep inside I knew that if no one bought it, I would probably never allow myself to paint again. I had tapped into something that shamed me when I was six years old (and I didn’t paint again for 50 years!)
When I saw it, I was free to make an enlightened, self-honoring choice.
Over the next several days, I created a painting that I liked. I matted it. I framed it. I’m going to donate it. If no one bids on it, it doesn’t matter because the painting is authentically ME. I created it to please ME. I had fun doing it, and I like it. That’s all that matters.
And the idea of calling myself an artist is actually growing on me. I think I’m ready to try on “Beginner Artist.” After all, I obviously have the “temperamental” part down pat!