Who Knew?

I spent most of the day painting, and I have to say, I like this me. This is not to say that I dislike the me who grades, plans, teaches, etc, but I really like the me who writes, paints, takes photos. I get out of my overly analytic head and into the mindset of enjoying the processes.

I am not so delusional as to think that owning a good camera makes me a photographer. But I have captured images and moments that are quite beautiful. Nor does having a blog make me a writer, although having something to say does. Owning a few paintbrushes doesn’t make me an artist; having an idea come to fruition on canvas…well, I’m getting there.

I do not do these things to one day carry a label. (I would be lying, however, if I said I don’t enjoy it when someone compliments something I’ve created.) For quite a while I abstained from doing “creative” things because I was so caught up with the end result. Not being trained, I knew my end product would not be like those photos, paintings, stories that I so admired. Fortunately though, one day I got out of my own way. I picked up a little watercolor kit and had a grand time. My mom came by and saw me hunched over my table, dabbing away at a 3x5 card. She gave me an easel and art supplies at Christmas: I was off.

I now find that even though I can get frustrated with my learning curve, the positives far outweigh any negative. Much like my goal to enjoy life as much as possible, I have learned to enjoy the process of my little creative outlets. Again, I do love when others like what I create, perhaps because so much of me is in the process. Turns out, aside from the whole moral relativity thing, I’m quite the post-modernist.