I have never had a coach before. Well, maybe once, in t-ball or when I learned to swim, but that does not count because I was not on a real team and the only thing that coach did was throw me in the deep end as I screamed and cried.
I was that kid. Oh well.
Regardless, I suppose I have been coming to terms with the idea that I can't do it all alone, and also, I don't want to! I LIKE having people around me, I ENJOY being in a class, and I LOVE discussing ideas out loud.
So I got a creative coach and there are group sessions and it is all hunky dory. Ah yes. 'Hunky dory'
Anyway, what I am realizing is that I kinda need to be a little bit of that jerk coach and throw myself in the deep end. Because for every compliment I receive about how much someone liked my piece or whatever, I always secretly think to myself, 'thank you but you haven't seen what I can REALLY do.'
And what kind of shit is that? What am I waiting for? Have I seen what I can really do?
Ugh. Just do it already. I know I'm not alone in this. Most artists will relate to this at some point.
Sometimes I think about how this blog is mostly quite personal and doesnt really touch on issues other than, well...me. But something about taking this time to write it out, post it publically (for, like, the two people who read this-Hi Dad!) to see, and thus take some sort of tangible responsibility for what I write and think and say feels necessary.
(Side note - My need for permission has really got to go. It seriously hasn't ever been productive.)
I pulled a card from the Artist Way card deck while at the group meeting. I'm on my ipad, so linking to the author is not gonna happen. Google it-worth it, I promise you.
Anyway-my card was Strength, and this is what it told me:
"As you learn to recognize, nurture, and protect your inner artist, you will be able to move beyond pain and creative constriction. You will learn ways to recognize & resolve fear, remove emotional scar tissue, & strengthen your confidence. Damaging old ideas about creativity will be explored and discarded."
That is one hell of a fortune cookie.
I think a lot of art comes from pain, and perhaps can even be born out of emotional scar tissue. Then again, I've been wrong before.
I suppose what all the words I wrote tonight really come down to is this:
I want to spend more time doing what it is that I do.
Dance. Create. Teach.