“I never decided at all to be an artist; being an artist seems to have happened to me.”
This morning I woke up early and headed upstairs to my little workspace. I’d made paper mache pumpkins and gourds yesterday and last night, before they dried too much, wrapped them with string. The string has to be wrapped tightly around the tiny gourds, to give them their characteristic vertical lines. Before unwrapping the paper mache objects, I paint them with a light coating of orange, yellow, green and brown. Then the paint dries and I’m ready to unwrap the piece and finish it with a stem of twisted paper or chip of wood. This is a long process, but the results are really pleasing.
This morning, as I settled into Moonstruck work, I noticed I’d not done a very good job at washing up after my painting foray. I studied the paint on my fingers and scratched at it but oddly, despite being a water based paint, it didn’t come off easily. I decided not to wash up again. I’ll leave my painted fingers as they are and as I type and talk and tout the creativity of others as my business, they’ll remind me that, at some point in time, I’ll be in my own creative element again.
I didn’t decide to take up this fairy furniture building thing. The Universe, recognizing the hollowness of my being and longing for my own expression, dropped it in my lap. Only a month ago, while walking outside, I noticed twigs and thought, “I bet I could make something of these….” and the rest just happened to me. In spite of me thinking I was not an artist at all, I now find myself engaged in personal creativity to a wonderous degree.
Creative expression is found in everyday moments of life. Whether you’re making a peanut butter sandwich for your child or hosting a luncheon or organizing a meeting, you can always place your own stamp of authenticity on daily tasks. Relish each opportunity to express yourself.