The dictionary definition of the creative is “relating to or involving the use of the imagination or original ideas to create something.” The word itself has always been daunting to me. I’ve never felt able to describe myself as such.
I’ve been a maker my whole life. As a child, I could never sit still. Idle hands were not an option. I joined all the art classes at school that I possibly could and experimented with all the mediums. Clay, acrylics, chalk pastels, oil pastels, watercolours – the works. I’ve grown up making things. It’s just a part of who I am. I miss having so much time that was set aside for the sole purpose of creative exploration.
As I’ve grown older, and I have less time to sit and make stuff, I’ve simply grown into mediums that I resonate most with, and left the others behind.
However, I’ve also noticed this sneaky little voice in the back of my head. Enter, Imposter Syndrome. No matter how much I paint and draw and sew, I feel as if I still can’t call myself an artist (even although my business Instagram account describes me as such – thanks Facebook).
The word leaves me with a gnawing feeling in my stomach, and mean thoughts in my head, that go something along the lines of “you’re no artist.” I constantly compare myself to other artists online and feel inferior. Feel as if I’m not original enough. Not putting enough into my art. Not sticking to a style. Heck, I don’t even have a style.
Everyone else seems to have it all figured out. The seem to know what their preferred medium is, what they like to paint, and how they like to paint it. But I still feel like that little kid who can’t decide what she wants to make. On the flip side, I end up making similar things that feel “safe” so that I can churn some or other piece out every other week just so that I have something to post on Instagram.
But, after some contemplation, I’m realising that Instagram, or no Instagram, I would probably be painting, sewing, drawing, making, anyway. It’s who I am. It’s what I do. And whilst the inner critic can be pretty darn hurtful and hindering sometimes, I’m learning to break through it. To block out all the noise, both internally and externally and allow myself space to make things, even if it feels ugly and so not worthy of Instagram and leave room for child-like creative play, without parameters or feeling like I have to stick to a certain “style”.
There is a lot of noise out in the world. Things are being thrown at us all the time. Just keep making stuff. Don’t feel as if you have to make pretty things all the time. In a rut? Try something new. Allow yourself to make mistakes. And then just keep doing it all over again.