About twenty/twenty-five years ago I was a young mother needing a creative outlet and a little time away. I had toyed with painting while in jr. high and highschool but never art as a serious venture for myself. I didn’t like all the official rules I encountered in art class. I guess I’m more of a do-it-yourselfer…painting things how I see them rather than how everyone else wants to see them..Anyway, when I heard about a local tole painting class my aunt and her sister had been going to I wanted to give it a try.
My husband was an encouraging trooper. One night a week of my own meant the world to me. Off I’d go for an evening filled with projects to challenge me, other women to talk to, and snacks.😂 Not cheerios, fruit snacks, or other toddler fare either. One night a week our delightful teacher Betty would give instructions when needed and then just join in our stories and laughter. I learned about tole painting, but mostly those nights were medicine.
After a couple of years I stopped going. I honestly don’t remember the reasons why. Finances? Work schedule? Growing demands of additional children? All I know is that a lot of life has happened in the years since. With the passing of time a lot of creativity has gone out the door too.
Fast forward to New Year 2024. We now have adult children and a teenager. My time is no longer tied up in childrearing or many of the things that go along with it. Even though the multiple demands are no longer there like they used to be I tend to feel the stresses of life more than I ever used to. Maybe because I used to live in the whirlwind of it all I never had the time to actually dwell on things.
Along the way it seems like piece after piece of myself has been spent and I’ve not taken the time to renew like I did those twenty years ago. I don’t regret giving to my family, church, and life in general. I do regret not continuing to carve out the time to produce things for the sheer sake of enjoyment as well.
Recently I heard a preacher say that the day you stop producing things is the day you start dying. God created us to produce, to create, with our abilities until the day we leave this earth. We each have talents or giftings that are meant to be stretched and used. When we stop using them life loses it’s luster.
Yesterday morning I woke up kinda blah as a winter storm blew hard on us. I sat on my phone scrolling my Instagram while wondering what I was going to do with my sequestered Saturday. More laundry? A health life coach I follow shared how letting ones creativity slide into non existence was very dangerous….meaning unhealthy. When you just entertain the daily mundane you become bored and this just adds to the stress of life. Yes, this points back to the previous reminder that an unproductive life proceeds death.
This was a bit of a wake up call for me. I began to think about what I create on a daily basis. I create dinner. I create those loads of clean laundry. I create a clean and welcoming home. All important things, but what about the creative part inside of me. Where has that gone?
After tending to a few household necessities I went to the basement. I gathered my paints and brushes (which I had kept stocked despite the fact that I’d not used them in years… what does that say? Deep down I’d never lost the desire.) I wiped the dust off of them, literally. I spread out newspaper over the kitchen table.
My husband watched in quiet surprise from the other end of the table where he was working. “Whatcha doing?”
“I’m going to paint.”
Within minutes it began to come back to me. I hoped my work of art would at least be recognizable because I had doubt. For over a year I’d thought about painting a Highland cow. We raise them and I’ve seen paintings of them everywhere…why couldn’t I do that? But no kidding, after the fact, my husband admitted that while seeing me trace out the beginning pattern he had doubt too. Then shapes and lines began to form in layers of color and we began to see what I had in my minds eye. And it felt good.
Here’s the finished product:
I actually cried…not because I think it’s perfect and it’s probably not what one would buy somewhere, but because watching the strokes create what I saw in my head released something I hadn’t felt in awhile. It’s just a cow on slate, but it’s proof that there’s still a young creative lady in me. She hasn’t died.
So if this speaks to you, be encouraged. Pick up your talents and use them. Let them breathe life into you as God desires.
creatingalovelyhome 