I almost forgot how much I enjoy painting. The sensuality of blending the acrylic paint colors, the wonder of making something from nothing. My eighteen year-old son had been bugging me for months to paint a scene from the book, Where the Wild Things Are, by Maurice Sendak. It was one of his favorite children’s books, especially since the main character shares his first name, Max. Part of me was yearning to paint again, while my sabotaging voice was saying, “You aren’t so good at painting anymore. Use it or lose it. And face it girl, you lost it!”
I managed to listen to that negative voice and avoid painting the wall until a few days ago, when I decided to just go for it. A few hours later, the outline for the wild rumpus was drawn in charcoal. “Hey, I can still do this”, I thought to myself. And then came the scary part: applying paint to the wall, indelible marks, the real deal. Once I started, there would be no going back to the original baby blue of the bedroom wall. It was all or nothing. And I began.
After a few hesitant strokes, the feeling of joy and confidence returned as I smelled the acrylics, and the colors were squeezed onto my palette. I hadn’t painted with acrylics in about five years. And I hadn’t painted a mural in maybe twenty-five years. My creativity had taken a turn in a new direction, towards life coaching. I was fully immersed in this new creative career, and the urge to paint furniture, my occupation for twenty years, had waned.
It is kind of like riding a bike. You never really lose the ability to paint. But practice does make perfect, and I was rusty. However, my confidence and skill level returned as I realized I still had talent. And more importantly, I loved the process. By the end of last night, the mural was complete. Max was delighted with the end product, Max and a monster hanging from the trees. (See photo above)
Painting the scene released my inner ‘wild thing’, that part of me that I often keep under wraps. While I was painting, listening to Jack Johnson and Crosby Stills Nash and Young on the ipod speakers, I was fully in the ‘zone’. I was connected to my source, my essence. I was totally in the ‘flow’, as they say in new age speak. It was meditative and empowering to see what emerged when I was connected to my source.
Now, my inner ‘wild thing’ wants to paint again. And I will. I emailed a new business acquaintance who does home styling, and she is interested in possibly working together to paint murals. Regardless of what I create, taking the risk to move past my saboteur was essential to opening the door to get my creative juices flowing in many directions. It has even opened the floodgates to brainstorming new ways to grow my coaching business.
Where’s your ‘wild thing’ hiding? What would be possible if you released her?
