I just wrote a big ol’ post about fear of not being perfect, and my reluctance to even attempt to draw or paint because on a deep level I thought I sucked at it. So, this post was supposed to be about how freeing it was to face down those fears, and just have some fun making “art”. But, the the stupid computer ate my post, and all my pretty words are gone.
Anyway, yesterday I went to an open studio of my friend and frequent commenter on this blog. I expected to just drop by, admire his work, eat some chips, make some chit chat and then be gone. Little did I know his fiendish plan to get people actually engaged in making “art”. When he first pointed out the workstations and what could be done at each, I opted to go outside for a while to catch up with a friend.
When I came back in I was strongly encouraged, nay, peer pressured into slopping some paint on this canvas. But, I’m no good at art. Really, trust me on this I have no freakin’ idea what I’m doing. Please don’t make me challenge that lifelong belief. Fine. I’ll do it to make you happy.
Oh. This is kinda, well, fun. Let me do another one. Hey, when is that next time you’re going to do this? Lemme know, OK? ’cause this was really, well, fun.
So, thank you friend who goes by many names for showing me it ain’t about being perfect, or doing it “right”. There’s a bigger lesson in here somewhere to take in to my 50’s, I know, but breakfast beckons.