Low
Getting ready for A Painted Touch of Life was a wonderful experience. It meant pushing myself to produce quite a lot of work in a busy time frame, and trying to find out what and how I wanted to paint by moving away from the comfort of being simply a student.
An incredibly happy journey altogether, but there’s been some tougher passages as well and I thought it could be relevant to share this side too (maybe it’s only fair -and healthy- to share the lows as I share the highs).
Or at least I’m writing that for personal record, little reminders that I survive those irrational emotions (which is probably just a pleonasm).
I can’t help but being a positive Suzy too, so I’m always in a rush to find a bit of perspective to my drama (not that I always remember to follow what I say, but I promise I’m trying hard to be wise).
I’m placing various self-portraits alongside the text, not all are relevant,
or at least they go for the ‘me, me, me’ feel of this text.
I’m a fairly emotional being ~
Maybe it’s obvious from the outside but I’m only realising it recently.
Feeling is great, better than numbness. However I sometimes worry I could get emotionally tired. Tiny Suzy.
Through committing more hours to painting (especially thanks to having a dedicated space), I’ve also exposed this happy place to a whole spectrum of emotions.
Painting/drawing if only a hobby or from a student position used to bring me a lot of joy, almost exclusively. But recently I’ve been worried that, as I was expending it to more of my life, I would loose its soothing quality.
My practice is indeed shifting from being a distinct activity to something encompassing the whole ‘me’. It can’t stay only on the happy side, and this is actually why I set myself to do that: ‘a lifetime for self-discovery’.
Hello, World!
It is difficult. Each painting seems like starting from scratch, with the full range of doubts, asking again and again the question of whether I’ll be able to achieve something. And even if progress is here, the feeling of struggling doesn’t change much.
It feels like stretching. Pushing to go to the next step. Getting there, and pushing to go to the next next step. Tiring and uncomfortable.
The difficulty probably comes from the fact that our ability to evaluate is always a step further than our ability to execute. Which is great, that’s how we can progress. It’s growth, yeay.
Now it’ll be a matter of learning how to keep this little voice quiet when I’m on the doing phase, and only request and welcome her when I actively decide to evaluate.
Discomfort is fine really. It feels better than stagnating. And everything I dare to do now, is this less for Suzy of the future. She’s probably very grateful.
Self-doubts are quite present, which sometimes means that the external encouragements appear as daunting. How could you think I’ll do great when I’m so unsure about what I’m doing? What if you’re seeing a potential and I don’t reach it?
Proper dramatic Suzy, when it's actually such a luck to be surrounded and encouraged. Don’t get me wrong, it is immensely appreciated.
I could just relax. Take the encouragements for what they are. I bet no one would care if I ‘fail’ anything. If I could have done better? well I’ll do better another time.
The only way is forward anyway? Timings aren’t really important.
Who am I to paint? The big recurring sentence that also encapsulates the guilt of not doing a proper job, of indulging into something personal and even self-centred? Even feeling bad for complaining that it is difficult. haha, Sue..!
It is a luxury to be able to do such thing with my life, and I can only feel grateful and happy for that. Who am I to do any other ‘job’ anyway? And what is life about, and all. I see clearly that those kind of thoughts aren’t really interesting, not sure why I’m still ruminating on it, it won’t get me anywhere.
If anything, it’s also why I love modelling, running workshops or simply having a chat about painting: as many ways to share this magical activity of looking/responding/daring.
Here I want to write I’m sorry for this rambling, because I’m not quite sure it could make any sense! This was trying to put down with words some irrational mind noise. Everything sounds a bit silly with the smallest distance, but I do remember how intensely worrisome it was for me at some time (and is, and will be).
Oh creative brain… ‘Being creative’ is great, but I guess it also comes with the second side of the medal being: brain is really creative too when it comes to feel space with worries.
All I need is to relax, have a good laugh. Be patient when it happens, find a balance, get outside of my head
(I absolutely loved the refreshing life drawing evenings I had been able to attend).
And thanks to my friends,
for always being here and comforting.
I hope each of you is feeling ok ♥
x
