I Should Paint More
I used to paint. A lot.
When I think back on it, I remember carrying my heavy leather portfolio I bought with my allowance while garage sale hopping with my Nonni. I carried tubes of paint and brushes wrapped in a Casey Jones grocery bag at the bottom of my backpack, so I could huddle in the corner of the quad during lunch and work.
It was time consuming and tedious. But it kept me busy and I loved it.
Fast forward a few years (and a few kids) and I just don't do it anymore. The frustration of having to get up every five minutes and pay attention to everything BUT my piece overpowers the beautiful images and ideas that wander across my mind. Sometimes I scratch a quick, rough sketch of the idea down, hoping to save it for a day when both free time and money are aplenty. Most times, I just let the images disappear and forget them entirely. I wonder where they go. Do they find a new mind to wander into? I hope so.
The last time I painted was... I think 2013. It was a single painting, and I almost gave up on it a few times because I was just too distracted and too tired.
This crossed my mind after I unconsciously pitched the idea of a mural to my boss while we sat in the newly renovated store before our grand reopening.
"What have you done? You're exhausted all the time and now you just pitched a MURAL? Are you insane?" Truthfully, I was completely aware that I was exhausted on a daily basis. But I was also exhausted of going home to no personal space or creativity.
My inner sanctimomma judged me. "That's incredibly selfish of you. You're doing this because you want time to YOURSELF?"
I'm doing this because I NEED time to myself, I rationalized, I NEED to stretch and dust off that part of myself before it just... dies.
If you suffer from Depersonalization Disorder, Depressive Disorder, Anxiety Disorder, or anything in that realm, really, you are very familiar with how I was feeling in that moment. I'm sure you've been there too.
So anyway, I went home and drew up a wall sketch, ran it past the boss, picked up supplies, and on my first day off I walked into the store at 10am, grabbed the ladder from the back, and got to work.
In two weeks, I free-hand painted an entire world on a wall. I came up with characters, I incorporated my coworkers, came up with clever worlds and names to represent our store... It was an amazing experience.
I cried when it was all over. I got in the car and I just couldn't help myself. But nothing lasts forever. Eventually you have to sign the painting.
Now, everywhere I go, I look at walls and imagine what could be. I just have to remind myself to look at life that way, too.
And I should definitely paint more.
When I think back on it, I remember carrying my heavy leather portfolio I bought with my allowance while garage sale hopping with my Nonni. I carried tubes of paint and brushes wrapped in a Casey Jones grocery bag at the bottom of my backpack, so I could huddle in the corner of the quad during lunch and work.
It was time consuming and tedious. But it kept me busy and I loved it.
Fast forward a few years (and a few kids) and I just don't do it anymore. The frustration of having to get up every five minutes and pay attention to everything BUT my piece overpowers the beautiful images and ideas that wander across my mind. Sometimes I scratch a quick, rough sketch of the idea down, hoping to save it for a day when both free time and money are aplenty. Most times, I just let the images disappear and forget them entirely. I wonder where they go. Do they find a new mind to wander into? I hope so.
The last time I painted was... I think 2013. It was a single painting, and I almost gave up on it a few times because I was just too distracted and too tired.
This crossed my mind after I unconsciously pitched the idea of a mural to my boss while we sat in the newly renovated store before our grand reopening.
"What have you done? You're exhausted all the time and now you just pitched a MURAL? Are you insane?" Truthfully, I was completely aware that I was exhausted on a daily basis. But I was also exhausted of going home to no personal space or creativity.
My inner sanctimomma judged me. "That's incredibly selfish of you. You're doing this because you want time to YOURSELF?"
I'm doing this because I NEED time to myself, I rationalized, I NEED to stretch and dust off that part of myself before it just... dies.
If you suffer from Depersonalization Disorder, Depressive Disorder, Anxiety Disorder, or anything in that realm, really, you are very familiar with how I was feeling in that moment. I'm sure you've been there too.
So anyway, I went home and drew up a wall sketch, ran it past the boss, picked up supplies, and on my first day off I walked into the store at 10am, grabbed the ladder from the back, and got to work.
I didn't feel like I had gotten very far on that first day, but when I look at this picture now I realize just how big that first step was. It wasn't entirely visible on the wall, but when you look at the whole picture... it was amazing progress.
I continued to work my regular shifts (usually 8am-4pm) as scheduled, and immediately upon clocking out, I took off my apron, stepped out from behind the counter, changed into my painting shirt, and got to work until the store closed at 9pm. If I was off one day, I showed up when the store opened. If I worked, I stayed until close.
After my first week, my body was so sore, but my mind was so happy, I couldn't stop. The endorphins had taken over. I was falling asleep faster, waking up easier, and I was happier.
At the tail-end of the project, I celebrated my 29th birthday. It was perfect. Instead of moping and complaining about being 29 and doing nothing, I was able to smile and talk about this amazing mural I was working on and how great it felt.
I cried when it was all over. I got in the car and I just couldn't help myself. But nothing lasts forever. Eventually you have to sign the painting.
Now, everywhere I go, I look at walls and imagine what could be. I just have to remind myself to look at life that way, too.
And I should definitely paint more.
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