In a way, this is a self-portrait. In a Rush.
A lot of the time this seems to be my life. Always in a rush. Trying to get too many things done. Trying to do too many things for other people. Twisting and turning, rushing. Feeling rushed even when I’m not actually doing anything that requires that feeling.
Art, and more specifically painting, often helps me to stop all the rushing. Sometimes instead of freaking out over something I’m doing I’ll choose to sit down and paint instead. It’s a way of coping, and one that I don’t use nearly often enough.
Since I’ve moved out of my parent’s home it has been difficult to get all of my stuff together. I’ve gone home several times just to get more of my stuff (and spend time with my family of course).
This has been an annoying process that requires me to reorganize my room constantly. Not that I really mind that since I actually love to organize things, but nevertheless. I own too much stuff for everything to fit in my town home. Which is rather ridiculous when I think about it because I have one roommate and two floors of space, and yet I feel like I have to cram my stuff into random spaces to get it to fit.
Back to the point though- up until June I hadn’t done any painting since I’d moved in February. I didn’t have either of my easels and I didn’t want to get paint everywhere and in general I wasn’t feeling very creative. When I got home from work all I wanted to do was veg out and watch Netflix (and let me say the shows I have chosen to watch have not been the best).
Finally, in June, I went home for a weekend and got my medium sized easel. I’ll tell you now, I own 3 easels. One small, foldable metal one that I actually had with me but never wanted to use, one medium “single mast” easel that doesn’t take up too much space, and a giant wooden easel with a shelf and wheels and everything I could ever want (my boyfriend got it for me for Christmas/my birthday and I love love love it. And him).
In June I picked up my medium easel (because my large one doesn’t even come close to fitting my my two-door car) and brought it back with me. I set it up in the living room where it sat for a while before I finally decided I had to fix what I was doing.
While all I wanted to do was be lazy and watch Netflix in bed (which was amazing because I’d finally gotten my blu-ray player to work) I had to make myself be creative. I could feel myself hating everything and becoming less and less motivated to do anything.
Maybe art will never make me a living, but I definitely don’t ever want to stop.
So finally, after not painting for months, I set up a canvas, picked up a brush and painted.
Even though my life had largely consisted of lying in bed and watching TV, I had still had that underlying feeling of being in a rush. When I started painting for short periods after work this feeling slowly dissipated.
I still get that way sometimes, but not nearly as often as when I wasn’t doing anything creative. I’m no longer constantly in a rush, and I really like it. I’ve even made some pretty sweet paintings that I’ll share at a later date.