it’s september and time seems be moving at breakneck speed. but then there are those drag-along days, leaving me to wonder at their end. temperatures in denver are still warm, and i keep telling myself that perhaps in a little over a month there will be snow on the ground or at least on the mountains in the horizon. and the day seems brighter with that thought. there is a sense of sadness at the changing of seasons, in new beginnings – because any new start is an end of something. and i like to hang on to whatever there is to grasp. but there is no point in hanging onto shadows or ideas. they are only illusions or memories.
i am reading/working my way through “The Artist’s Way.” around this time last year, i was sitting in a group of 15 or so people, the majority of them musicians, art students or entrepreneurs. the question was asked, “who in this room is creative?”
i was the only person not to raise my hand.
am i creative? i’m a dabbler. i love books, words, design, nature, movies, music. but i would never consider myself creative. i am friends with creative types. but me? of course not.
i began working my way through this book because i believe in any time of transition or change, art is necessary. creativity is a healing agent, a comfort. and by reading this book, i am learning to let go of my pre-conceived ideas of art and creativity. it comes down to the understanding that if i have a Creator and am created in His image, creating is part of my dna. it is a response to life. i am learning to see that creativity is part of the whole package of personhood – i am an artist in how i love people, decorate my home, take time to plant flowers and herbs from seeds, how i communicate and live my life. it does not mean i have to create to display or that i am unrivaled at a particular art form. it simply means that i am to create – using whatever interests and talents i have. i create by being me.
that sounds simple, but when we are never taught about our true selves, when we can’t discern truth from lies, our creativity is stifled. but with the changing of seasons (or the hope at the changing of seasons), i am reminded that there is always room for creativity, for art. there is time to find our true selves. letting go of illusions and the shadow of self is painful, but there is such beauty in the newness of change.