My dad was an engineer—he was the master of precision. Faced with his intense expectation for perfection, I rebelled: I don’t follow recipes. Straight lines bore me. When I was in my 20s, my work review was outstanding, but my boss asked me to buy a copy of Dress for Success—I bought a pair of purple shoes instead.
And yet in my art, I have been a little resistant to totally letting go and letting that rebel take the lead…but lately I feel like I am at the doorstep.
Today, I picked up a canvas I had been muddling with for some weeks. It was painted in various shades of gray with just a touch of color. An artist friend suggested I don’t touch those little touches of color and boy was I stuck.
And then I picked up an old sewing pattern from the 60s that I found at a thrift shop and randomly started ripping it and gluing it to the canvas. Cardboard from an old package of snaps also jumped on the canvas and then came red. I loaded my brush with red paint and my arm painted faster than my head. Soon pink joined in and before I knew it, the adrenaline had taken over my body. I was buzzing with energy and colors were flying onto the canvas…the “conversations” they were having were deep and loud and I think I heard some cheering.
So in this chorus of color that lasted several hours, I found the supreme pleasure of letting lose, rebellion--spontaneity. What a joyful dance. And it’s not lost on me that the catalyst was in picking up a sewing pattern—something I never had use for and using it in a very unintended way. I will never be someone who makes their own clothes or even a square pillow—but I love the feeling of freeing myself to go beyond where I have been. The feeling of stepping out and pushing the bounds of my comfort.
Sending this electric energy your way. Wishing for you to find joy in some uncomfortable places. To find new creative places. And wishing you to go ahead…rebel a little. Namaste’