For as long as I could I kept it to myself. This pure secret that I couldn't afford to see destroyed by the ideas of what others thought I should be.
As I spent more and more energy on this new found love my style evolved into such an expressive and therapeutic practice. I can look at a painting and remember the exact emotion and place I was in. Like a vivid flash back into time where I released the moments of my life that no longer served me, but kept them close to me as a reminder of my evolution instead of becoming stuck in my past and the things that hurt or broke me during those times. My personal growth that was necessary for me in order to live freely.
After my car accident, I was not able to use my right dominant hand for about a year. I couldn't wait that long to pick up a paint brush so I began painting with my left hand. How strange it is to think about the science that goes behind the sides of our brains and bodies triggering different perspectives of logic. My paintings lefty were completely different than anything I had ever done before. They were unplanned and fearless. They were inspiring! I was always so attentive to how others critiqued my work in the past...and just like that I was beginning to drop my shields of fear, another moment of evolution, maturity, contentment, and confidence. When beginning again with my right hand this transformation carried over. Creating expressive works of color, texture, and movement.
Over the last few months I have yet transitioned again, shedding another layer of skin, letting down another shield, forgetting more profoundly about what others would think or feel. I began to paint over past works. I would walk through my house and stop to stare at them. I would say to my self... this is unfinished...either in taking them to another level or recreating something completely different. My husband laughs and says that by the time we are old and grey my paintings will be 10" thick with layers of oils from every moment of transformation. There are other paintings I've done that were so pure and positive, reminding me of the incredible moments of bliss and joy. Those of course I would never even think to touch again. They have become the walls of our home. The beautiful memories we hold.
This form of therapy for me is connected to everything in life. It's a way to release and physically interact...maybe even open up the possibility to touch someone else in a positive way. You don't need to be a painter to be expressive. You don't need to write, or dance, or sing to have an art. Yet as complex humans I do believe in listening to what inspires you. To what you are innately drawn towards for that is who you really are. Not to be afraid that it won't be accepted. I believe at the end of the day with strong will and effort if you are stuck, lost, or in a dark place only you can break out of it. Easy to say I know. I've been there too though.
Sometimes I even go back to those dark places because I forget in those moments my own elements of therapy and release. I get stuck in the heaviness of negativity and the dark aspects of life that will always balance the good. The importance of staying connected to my true self is what keeps me centered. My husband and son are blessings that are products of my clarity, but at the end of the day it is only I who has power over my own happiness.