I SEE YOUR LIFE AS ALREADY ARTFUL,
JUST WAITING AND READY FOR YOU
TO MAKE IT ART.
I love art. I love to look at it, to learn about it, to understand it. I practically minored in art history in college. And yet I always consider myself one step - or more - removed from actual artists. I can't draw, I can barely paint a room (you should see my office) and my greatest sculptural achievements are the worms I crafted out of Play Doh for my five year old nephew.
(Now, I know a number of you are saying - as my husband often does - writing is art. Yes, it is. No argument there. It's just not the same, to me anyway, as actual physical art I made with my own hands.)
A few months ago, I found - buried under other papers - the newest adult community education catalog with the collage class I had marked when I first noticed it. The class I marked...but never registered for. It started that next week. Before I could come up with my usual excuses - and in the spirit of the Year of Yes - I registered right away.
And you know what? Among the scraps of art paper, the old stamps, the ephemera, the glue, the beads and the buttons, I found my niche. I found a new way to layer, to craft and to create, to tell a story. I loved it! When the class was done, I was determined to keep going on my own. I made a list of supplies I'd need. I already had paper scraps and glass tiles and beach-combing finds. I had the support of my husband to make a mess. So...that's as far as I got. And I have no idea why. Okay, that's not true. I just didn't make the time to do it, to play, to lose myself in the joy of creating. I let doubts and fears and household chores get in my way. It's safer to stick with what I know, to stick with words.
But we are all artistic beings, and I bet most of us have more than one way to showcase that. If you're not sure how, go experiment! Build Lego houses, take photographs of your dog (or tortoises!), bake an unusual flavor of cupcake. (Ahem! Make a collage, maybe?) Let us know how it goes.