I’ve allowed life to pass me by and I’ve been stuck in one hell of a rut. I’ve lost my way–any sense of direction. I want to be creative again, even if it’s simple, small stuff.
Even if I’m just scribbling doodles on a piece of scrap paper, I just want to be true to my artistic nature.
I’m annoyed with myself from wasting so much time focusing on the wrong things in life. I can’t get that time back and all I can think about is how many great ideas I lost by not giving them the time of day. Being an adult is about rediscovering what is important to you, and I’ve made the wrong things important to me for a long time.
I don’t want anything tangible anymore, I just want to make stuff again…
-Images from Pixabay.com
Not the most articulate stream of thoughts but exactly how I’m feeling today, now that I am holding my self-published book, February Rain. It is so surreal to stare at this book, something come to life from the depths of my mind. I am in absolute awe of it, and find it strange to look at something and feel this instant burst of happiness.
It’s weird for me since so many things annoy me, this sensation of joy is just an odd feeling. But I feel such warmth and happiness from this book, and this is precisely why I self-published it.
I don’t mind if I don’t sell a single copy, I am just so happy to see it come to life.
Ahhh I just love how sleek and polished the cover looks. I had such trouble making it appear professional but I am so happy to see that it came out really nice.
These past couple of weeks have been insanely busy.
From a creative perspective, I have really struggled to keep chipping away at my projects. I hate to be such a slow worker, but haste always makes waste whenever I rush my projects.
This entire week, I’ve been tackling boring adulting tasks sometimes up to midnight-only to crash and be up at the crack of dawn.
Rinse and repeat.
I decided to let go of my podcast idea that I had been working on for a few years. I was very sad to let it go, but I just couldn’t bring the project to fruition. I tried over and over, and made countless episodes. But when I listened to my episodes, I always sounded so nervous.
I found it so frustrating, that I would work on a project so many times, but still come off so nervous and unprepared. I’m not sure why I couldn’t calm down, and that’s when the realization came that this probably wasn’t a good idea to continue.
I just keep thinking about all of the time I’ve wasted on it. Time I didn’t have, but carved out to work on it.
I’ve chosen to take the plunge and self-publish a collection of poems that I’ve been working on. However, I’ve been terrified since I decided to do this. Panic sits in the center of my chest whenever I ponder the thought, and my breaking becomes shallow.
I’m fighting with myself hard, because I just want to hide. I never feel like my creativity is worth it, I never believe that anyone would want to read anything I’ve written. My reasoning for self-publishing isn’t even to be successful, or to have anything amazing come out of it. I just want to prove to myself that I can finish my creative projects. I always sabotage myself when I’m about to finish a creative project–I just can’t shake the worthlessness. I think my reasoning for self-publishing is reasonable, it isn’t based on anything outlandish. It’s a personal reason too (which I think is wise) so there isn’t any reason to “fail” aside from not doing it at all.
But I am so scared, I think because if one person were to buy the book and they hated it, I’d feel so crushed by it. I’m always scared about what others think, even now I’m hyperventilating in my room, just thinking about the thought of self-publishing. I am so ridiculous! So many books get published every month, no one would even see my stuff…but I am still terrified.
Excuse me while I go hide under the covers *_____*
image credit: pixabay.com
An early Christmas present to myself, some creative healing!!
I don’t think I will ever be able to express my gratitude to Liz Gilbert for her incredible read, Big Magic.
I am about halfway through the book and have received more “Aha” moments than I can count. I find such connection Liz’s words–because they are so in touch with many thoughts that circulate throughout my own brain. She directly addresses so many of my own negative thoughts about living creativity and she does this in a precise manner. (Ex: my constant worry that I am not original enough). This makes it very clear to me that she has dealt with many of vicious thoughts that I have but she is strong and overcomes them. She doesn’t try to destroy the fear that always shadows the creative, she expects fear but doesn’t allow it to take over.
Her battles with her own insecurities has thought me that there is no level of success that can fully strip you of those fears. They will on some level, always be there. The real sadness comes allowing the insecurities to dominate you, until you lose all ability to create anything. I love writing but also any form of craft, of art.
And I’ve allowed it to nearly all be taken away from, because I was simply too afraid to create. I find that to be really sad. I can’t get those years back but thankfully, I am still alive and have another shot to try. Trying doesn’t mean aspiring for material and financial success, trying means just living a creative experience. I love that Liz reminds us that we are all creative beings and she doesn’t subscribe to that elitist stance that only the most talented artists are allowed to be creative. To be honest, my favorite artists (not that my opinion really matters, I am a true nobody) are the people who aren’t perfect, they are just wholly themselves.
Reading this far into Big Magic, I was touched by how grounded and clear Liz is about living creatively, without having to become that archetype of the tortured artist. I think we need more books like this, and I can’t wait to finish this book and continue being lost in her words. I love the idea of being creative from a healthy place, not hurting yourself for the sake of your art.