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"In art.. failure is part of the progress... "

April 17, 2018

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"In art.. failure is part of the progress... "

April 17, 2018

Reader beware... this is a long one. It's probably more geared toward the folks that suffer a bit of Imposter Syndrome  (is a concept describing individuals who are marked by an inability to internalize their accomplishments and have a persistent fear of being exposed as a "fraud"....wikipedia) than those looking for a quick read. 

 

It's midnight and all I can do is wonder what my next step in life is. That's normal right? This seems to be my nightly routine these days.

At 37 years old, I am just now exploring where my heart is leading me after all these years of knowing where it yearns to belong. Instead, I had been making conscious decisions to not even entertain the idea of connecting mind and feelings for absolute fear of failure and unrelenting standards.

I have been listening to audio books (about creative ruts and advances) at night trying to help me gauge just how serious I am about taking this massive leap of faith and I keep asking myself "why now???"

I've always known deep down that I have an affinity for art and for becoming a creative myself. I have always wished I was a painter, sculptor, or even a dancer. In highschool, my senior year (I went to 4 highschools) - we had some incredibly talented and gifted artists. I'd make my way down to art class, walking passed the gymnasium (that I LOATHED) and seeing the creations lined up against the wall... paintings, clay models, paper mache.. I would literally day dream that I could produce something so grand and that I would someday live in a home surrounded by such amazing talents and creations. I actually imagined I would be recognized for talents I didn't even have. Then reality would hit. My reality. I wasn't an artist.. No one saw me as an artist so how dare I dream of being one. Instead I would go to class and make minimal effort to get a passing grade. No one noticed.

As a child I was never seen as a creative person. It was not me that blew people's minds with how well I could draw or how descriptively beautiful my stories could be (instead I scared the world with my horror stories.. realizing now I