putting myself out there
EDIT - After looking through old blog drafts I found this one and thought maybe somebody could find some value in it. It’s easy to forget where we’ve come from so looking back at this post for me has inspired me all over again to put myself out there more, which I have not done in quite a while. For those new to my “journey” let me give you context… In 2018 at 26 I started a blog, then I started water-colouring, then I started painting peoples dogs, then I created an illustration business selling cards. It all seemed to flow from impulsive idea to action to another idea to another action. It was messy and I’m still clueless but much more fulfilled!
from blogging to painting -
A little nudge to becoming a self-taught clueless illustrator
I wanted to write a post for everyone dreaming of drawing and painting, or any form of creation for that matter, but who just thinks they’d be bad at it, so they don’t bother. My story is here for you all to read. I hope I don’t come accross narcissistic, but I thought by sharing my journey you might be encouraged to start yours.
I can’t believe I just said the word “journey”. Let’s forget that just happened.
Anyway… I’m going to try my best on this blog to persuade you to shake off societies rules on creativity and just have fun! But before we get into the nitty gritty in a later post indulge me for now and let me take you back to when the niggling thoughts of self comparison, self doubt and indecision crept in and well unfortunately they still haven’t left yet, but I’m working on it.
We learn quickly as children who “can” draw and who “can’t”. We take note of our fellow pupils, we clock who gets the praise and who doesn’t. Who’s talented and who isn’t very good, and from then on unless we are classed as “gifted” the lid is put on our creative flame and we leave the art behind. Sad really. I loved drawing as a kid, the art section in Argos was my heaven. Stationary shops always shone brighter to me than any toy store. I would dream of 3 tier colouring boxes with wooden cases and silver hinges, pencils and pens in my pencil case and don’t even get me started on the etchersketch’s. I was really lucky, my confidence with art wasn’t squished until my teens. Secondary school, that’s when I learnt I wasn’t as good as other people, my downfall wasn’t my drawing, it wasn’t bad but my creative process wasn’t great. It was always incoherent, random, my work was really quite crap. To do Art correctly you had to show where your ideas came from and build up a folder of cohesive work. This has always been really hard for me, it still is, my impulse decides what I draw and then I’m ready to move on to the next random thing. Through school I felt like I was constantly working backwards, trying to find an explanation to the random idea I’d set on. I can remember trying so hard to make my plastic A3 folder look as neat tidy and cohesive as the two very talented girls that sat on my table. Needless to say it never ever did and I never ever forgave myself for it. I perceived everyone else to be so much more capable, more organised, more gifted than me and that story has been repeated by me, to me, ever since. Then I left school and never really drew or painted again, not much anyway. Not until 2019, over 10 years later.
I started my blog in August 2018 because I was just so fed up with life. I was itching to create, and luckily for me the itch seemed to outweigh the lack of confidence. I was sick of being me, so after reading so many other blogs and wishing myself to be them I decided to throw caution to the wind and start one my self. I wish I could say I just picked up a paintbrush one day and could simply paint, but that’s not the case at all. I had done 9 months of blogging and putting myself out there first. That’s 9 months of growing thicker skin, of learning that people don’t really want to read what I have to say, learning to be absolutely fine with that and continuing to do it anyway.
We all self protect and we all need everyone else to think we’re good at what we do but this leaves no room for new beginnings, no room to just start things with a child like enthusiasm. I think growth in life comes with the ability to be a beginner, growth in my life certainly has anyway.
So that was it, my creative confidence was officially knocked and shrivelled up from year 11 graphics to the ripe old age of 26. That was the age I started my blog and slowly clawed back a little self belief. My impulsive almost ADD attention span has been evident through the whole process of my blog, starting one thing and forgetting to continue with it. I live with a bombardment of ideas pelting themselves at me with the force of an angry Andy Murray whacking a never ending pile of tennis balls at a wall. These ideas aren’t necessarily good, in fact only a small handful are good, but this is where my fear has been for most of my adult life, in not knowing which ones are bad or good and being too afraid of failure to find out. This blog saved me, I found the courage to just try and by putting myself out there I found the world is kinder (to your face anyway.) than I thought.
I no longer feel ashamed of who I am, I need to learn to vet my impulses and screen my ideas but to continue with the way I am is the only way I’m going to learn.
