Over the next little while, as I continue to move in to my beautiful new home online, I’m going to bring some of my past content over to share. Originally published on Starshyne Productions.
“My love of art had been slaughtered early on by a cruel art teacher.” Gail McMeekin
How many tender souls have been hurt like this? How many of us are carrying around that hurt? I often think that if we had art-ray glasses to identify this particular wound, we’d see it on everyone we encounter. Maybe for you it was drawing. Or singing. Or dance. Maybe you were the wrong size or shape or gender. Maybe it was a teacher, a classmate, a parent or even you yourself that spoke the words that crushed the artist inside.
When we’re wounded in this way, a part of us shuts down. We start believing a lie – that we can’t paint or write or perform, that we are not creative. So, does it matter? So what if we don’t tap dance anymore? Big deal. So what if we mouth the words when we sing Happy Birthday to our loved ones? We pass it off with humour, jovially turning down an invitation to the dance floor because of our 2-left feet.
What does it matter?
It matters. Whenever a part of us is closed off, we are not whole. When we don’t allow ourselves to experience something, we miss out. And when we are shut off from our artistic and creative expression, we lose our confidence in being creative at all. We start to doubt our ability to be a creative force in our lives and in the world – and when that happens all of us miss out.
We are all meant to experience the joy of our body’s dance, the power of our own voice, the telling of our own story, the creation of our own images. This is the language of our souls. If you ever wanted to pick up a paintbrush, write a song, learn the drums, then it is meant for you. If you ever wanted to recite poetry, create a sculpture, learn to clown, it is meant for you. Start today.
It is not about being in the National Ballet or playing at Carnegie Hall or showing at the National Gallery – though that might be for you too. It is about you deeply experiencing yourself and sharing your full expression with the world. It’s about love.
The arts belong to everyone. And that means you too.
Let the healing begin.
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{ 13 comments… read them below or add one }
Thank you for this wonderful invitation, Jamie !
I LOVE ART !!!!!
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I don’t remember from whom, how or when I “learned” I couldn’t dance, but that’s the line I tow. The thing is, whenever a song comes on that feels like one I’d want to move my body to, I resist the temptation. I’m sure I probably taught myself that I couldn’t dance, actually. I used to watch others who were good and recognized my own shortcomings in those moments. I don’t have rhythm, so to speak. For awhile in high school I used to go to “alternative” dances (indie type music) where doing your own thing was encouraged. I had so much fun and felt so enlivened at those things…
Maybe I need to start my own alternative dancing circle and get back to it. It sure did inspire me and make me feel GOOD!
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You know my crafts room is practically empty and I avoid it like the plague. I think I need some big healing to happen there so you know what I am going to do? I am going to bring back my long table in there and order some pictures I have taken to get printed and make a collage. OK, I wrote it so now I got to do it. Right? I will! Thanks for the push Jamie!
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well, this is my story ~ I grew up in a rural area, very small town, and lived on a farm. There were no art classes in my schools. In high school the closest thing we had was poetry and creative writing class, both of which I took and excelled in. It was during my reading of Jamie’s beautiful website here that I recall why, as a child, I loved my week of Bible school in summer ~ it involved art. We created things (yes, of a religious sort, but so what). I have always loved the smell of the church basement where Bible school took place, and it ocurred to me several months ago why that is ~ I was creative for those 5 days! To this day, whenever I have occasion to walk into that church basement, it still smells exactly the same and triggers fond memories. As a teen I travelled on the train to visit my aunts in Chicago where I was treated to lunches in the outdoor gardens at the Art Institute; my favorite days were spent slowly walking through the galleries with an open mouth, in awe of such beauty as those paintings on the walls. It was heaven. I don’t know if I have an actual artistic talent, because it was never fostered/encouraged. All I can do now is be open to receive inspiration and to embrace my love of art, whether it be my own creation, or those of others. My walls are filled with art from Haiti, New Mexico, and personal friends. Thanks for letting me tell this story, it has been fun…
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I let go of art to live a life that took all my time. I did do a bit of ceramics. And used art in redoing my house. But for me I always wanted to play an instrument. I made sure my kids had that ability. But I do not know that is what I would like to do now. I am so happy with creativity, I do not need musical ability’s. My inner child love to learn and create.
Thanks for re awaking that side of me.
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Thank you for such wonderful and well said post. Though I view myself as a writer, I still carry me the “art wounds” which I got when I was a small child. This also mean that every now and then I’ll find myself wrestling with the voice. Thank you to remind us that creating / creativity is part of being a human beings.
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I would love to send this to my gentle friend, who was wounded the same way by our high school art teacher. Unfortunately she’s aimed that resentment towards me so wouldn’t take kindly. (As a penniless artiste I just want her income now!
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I ran into the voice of some jr. high art teacher saying I had no talent for art as I was working through Wreck this Journal this summer. I am coaxing my wounded visual artist back out slowly with colored pencils and crayons.
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Lovely post.
As I’m going through The Artist’s Way, we had to do an exercise that included listing “The Blurbs” (negative self-talk) that popped up. In fifth grade, the once-a-quarter art teacher that came around told me I painted like a first grader. The following year, she told me my India ink drawing was beautiful.
I’d never noticed that the comment I’d chosen as part of my internal personal statement was the negative. I’m glad I had the opportunity to do the exercise because I’ve reframed the experience and while I doubt a one-woman show is in my future, I feel more confident about my creative abilities now and don’t break out in a cold sweat at the sight of a paintbrush.
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Thanks for reaching all those creative and yearning parts of me that have been stifled along the way.
I am learning to embrace my creative projects and interests, where I once thought they had to be lucrative and $$$ earning to be of value.
You are my guru Jamie!
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I remember being in the Christmas show at school. I was under the age of 10. I was in the choir and the nun’s told me I couldn’t sing and told me to only move my lips and pretend. Talk about shame! Yikes. Healed it and sing when ever I feel like it. The birds don’t ask for permission to sing. Quote by someone unknown. Post…awesome!
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Great post. I’m so mindful of the messages that I send my son as I watch how creative he is. It breaks my heart when he comes home sad from a comment that the “art” teacher has said. My heart warms back up when I see him spending hours drawing or making things from supplies that he has found around our home. One day he said, “I think it is great that I have an artist for a mom.” That comment right there validated the artist in me. Thanks Jamie for always providing such thoughtful and thought provoking posts.
{soul hugs}
Kathryn
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I was told I wasn’t good enough in art by my mother. Then, asked to bring everything home from art class, I returned from a year as an exchange student to nothing. Everything had been thrown away. Art is what made me survive through life as a twin (who excelled in everything) and high school in general. I look forward to rejuvenating my soul!
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