A song for a rainy day. For fun. :)

The Fire in Us: How to be the artist you are meant to be

There is something in us all: a unique fingerprint, an impression that we make as we pass across the earth. In writing we call it your "voice". Everybody has one.

The magic happens when you discover a medium to release this voice inside of you... from pastry to paint, to horseback riding... when your voice is released, true art is made.

Or maybe "spark" is a closer word for what I want to say.

Skill is a thing that can be developed. We study and practice to master the tools of our chosen mediums, but without the spark that expresses who YOU are, the art feels empty, contrived.

Discovering and releasing your spark, creating true and meaningful art... that part is tricky. Picasso is quoted as saying that "Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up."

I've experienced this. I've always loved to paint but somewhere in early high school I met a wonderful girl with a painting talent that I felt I could never match. My jealously gnawed at me. I lost joy in the art that came out of me naturally, and instead of loving and embracing my own spark, I tried to paint like her.

Jealousy, envy, insecurity, even false humility: over the years I have brought these things to my painting pallete. The scars of life convinced me that my love for bright vivid colours, the "swoopy" path my brush seems to take, my love of surreal elements, even my choice of subject matter, all betrayed me as an unskilled pretender. I thought that the thing that lay at the very center of my being: my "spark" must be hidden at all costs.

I fought violently with my art for many years. Painting or drawing brought on migraines so strong that my eyes would blur and I'd begin to see double. Despite this, I'd often push myself, refusing to accept anything that I could imagine as imperfection until I collapsed in pain and frustrated disappointment.

The optometrist couldn't find anything wrong, and despite my secret belief that the coolest thing a person can put on is a pair of glasses, I still have 20/20 vision. :)

Thankfully this year has brought powerful change. Through the persistent encouragement of friends I've found the courage to believe that what I do has worth and is beautiful. I've dared to put aside the crippling criticism in my head and to love the art that I create.

My headaches are gone, my heart is aglow. I have so much to learn about technique (everybody does) but I am learning to accept myself and to love the unique voices we all have to bring to this world. 

Don't be afraid of your spark. If you paint with dots, or write about wizards... our quirks make us awesome.

But. There is something that makes me mad. Whatever industry you may be involved in, please stop a moment and consider... if you feel threatened by someone else's work, if jealousy has infected your soul, as it did mine, consider the harm it does, to your own gift, and... if you let it spill out... to others. Jealousy and it's products: bitterness, insecurity and competition... these are the antithesis of true art.

If your motivation is money... well, trust me, there are easier ways.

If your motivation is fame... you *might* find fame (probably not)... but art built solely on a desire for fame isn't really that great. You are in danger of becoming a clown of history.

And by the way... if you have been hurt by someone else's jealousy. Be brave. Don't stop being you. The jealousy they may feel is a common failing in us all and it blinds them to the magic of their own spark. Take whatever steps you need to to protect yourself from abusive language and behaviour and... show them a better way.

There is such beauty and good to come from honest expression when it is given the space and encouragement to be free. It gives voice to social issues, it is a powerful advocate for justice, it is both overt and subversive, it challenges the very meaning of what it is to be human, it asks the questions we dare not voice aloud. It heals us, soothes us, and calls us to action.

The practice of true art isn't easy. But now I understand; my insecurities don't have to rule me or hold me back. The fire in me is valuable, significant and needs expression.

So does yours.

Yes. You are special. (Some needed love to Millennials)

There has been a lot of 'stuff' trending around the web lately about Millennials... until this point, I stayed quiet and took it. Because I honestly didn't know any better. I swallowed the names with shame: 'privileged', 'lazy', the 'me generation'. Our approach to work, to community, to technology, to politics has been attacked and derided. I've felt attacked over and over again because I was raised 'spoiled', with a hyper-inflated belief in my own potential.

It hurt. I withdrew beneath the weight of these words. They seemed right: I did believe that I was something special, I thought that I could make a difference. But the angry and undeserved rhetoric that I've encountered told me that I needed to stay in my place and keep my mouth shut.

These words often spawn from a clash between generations. I've heard the same clash happened when Generation X grew up beneath the Baby Boomers. One generation didn't understand the next and in many cases reacted with messages of distrust and even hate. It's happening again.

But thankfully, for me, there is an intersection of grace. I mentioned the hurt I was feeling and an older woman took it on herself to tell me that the messages that I was hearing from some of those in her generation were wrong: that they were lies/hurtful names disguised as candor, coming from a place of fear, a feeling of loss of control.

And she told me something else. She gave me a beautiful picture of who my generation really is.

We are kind.
We embrace diversity and tolerance more than any other generation before us.
We are engaged.

We are connected.

We love the wisdom of the generations before us, this is reflected in our trends, our fashion and our music. We embrace concepts of simplicity and authenticity.
We are also a generation of innovation and technology. The conscientious blend of these qualities (a love for the past+a vision for the future) is a critical component for a generation that must stand tall to grapple with enormous global issues.


In a very organic way, I believe that millennials have been well equipped for the task. My friend paid us the enormous compliment of saying that the millennial generation is part of nature's answer to a world out of balance.

Still chewing over that one, but it sure didn't hurt to hear.

Millennials are special. Every one of us. We are ready to overcome the messages of criticism and instead, dare to plumb the depths of our imagination and potential.

Thank you to my older friend, and to those Baby Boomers and Generation Xers who choose to love and nurture rather than to try and dismantle us.

As for the ones who hurt...

Its time to loose the hate and embrace hope instead.

LOVING this song today. :)

Perfection is a Defense Mechanism

or at least... trying very hard to be perfect is.

And I do try. What I think is perfect is different from commercialized ideals of perfection. But I do have a standard... an impossibly high one. the more broken I am inside, the more important it seems to be to act and look perfect on the outside.

I've also learned from experience that I can be hard to read, people often miss the nuances of my mood. I just don't make big gestures and I don't speak loudly... I think that for those who have met me but haven't yet figured out how to read me I can come off cool, intimidating, reserved.

But I'm not. I'm broken. My mind is broken, my identity is broken. My emotions are raw and I just. can't. control them anymore. Sometimes I'm rocking and crying on the floor, sometimes I'm shaking. I feel as if there's a man in the room with a gun and somehow I just have to ignore him and pretend everything is normal. I panic, I struggle to get out of bed. I feel like I can't trust my mind. My very thoughts, emotions and actions are sometimes beyond control and I don't even know why.

I have PTSD.

I'm writing this because of a conversation I had with a friend today around mental health. We discussed how sharing a story helps others talk about their own struggles: how so many people, when they feel safe enough, express feelings of isolation, of loneliness.

So I'm writing this. Because despite what you see, what you might think you see, I'm broken too. Maybe we all are. Like you, I feel alone and afraid. At the moment, the thing that I'm most afraid of is that I won't be accepted for who I really am.

I'm scared of rejection, but I don't want pity. I don't want to be "saved". I want to be loved for who I am right now and to still be considered equal, in thought and ability.

But I'm scared, I've been hurt, I've seen others judged and hurt... so instead: I fight to control the mess, claw for perfection. I'm desperately trying to hold it together...

For 1 more minute, 1 more hour, 1 more day

Until I break again.