I  sometimes forget how good it feels to do something creative.  I forget that when I’m anxious or upset, an hour spent drawing or making something, getting in the “flow” as it were, is likely to make me feel much better.  When drawing or stitching I feel  much more connected to myself, much more grounded.   But due to my forgetfulness,  I often don’t draw or create anything when I’m in a “mood”.  Instead I muddle around trying to think of a way to make myself feel better.  When I do eventually  stumble upon the “answer” for the thousandth time, and walk away from a sketching session feeling happy, I then often forget that the picture itself doesn’t have to be perfect.  It doesn’t even have to be good.  It’s enough that it exists, and that I existed in harmony with myself for the time it took to create it. 

 Shortly after New Year’s, I was feeling a little down and directionless, but on this particular day I happened to remember that I might feel better if I drew something.  I took myself off to the beach.  It was a rainy, humid and windy day, but that didn’t matter. I slid back the car seat, perched my sketchbook up against the wheel and drew what was before me.

A cup of  take – away tea balanced on the dashboard and the small “beach scene” behind it.

When I’d  finished I was not displeased with the result and my mind was definitely calmer.  I drove home and showed my picture to DH.  He “saw” the takeaway coffee cup, but missed the whole dashboard and scene beyond.  Somehow that diminished the drawing and the feeling of wholeness upon it’s completion.   In one instant I “forgot” why I’d done this drawing in the first place and began to think that, because I’m not an excellent artist that I shouldn’t create anything at all.

So from this little afternoon’s tale, I think I’ve established my New Year’s philosopy or goal.  

 That is:  to remember that art helps me connect with life and that this is a good enough reason to do it.  

I just thought I’d share this little story in case anyone else can relate.