A Work in Progress: Awakening the Inner Creator

Electric Honeypot
May 20
6 min read

I have always been a creative type. Ever since I was a little girl, I have been interested in arts of all forms—music, dance, acting, writing, drawing, painting, photography.

My imagination was limitless. I made up my own songs to sing while dancing up my driveway. I put on plays with elaborate storylines using my stuffed animals, Bratz dolls, and Hot Wheels cars as the actors. I wrote in a diary dreaming of one day writing a book like the many I loved reading growing up with stories about underdogs and magical worlds. I drew big headed princesses for my grandmomma's princess room. I helped my mom paint wooden puzzles for craft fairs, and she took me to paint pottery. I used her camera any chance I could.

As I grew older, the trauma I experienced compounded. School limited my creativity as art was seen as something secondary to subjects like math, history, science, and English. Teachers even scolded me if I was caught drawing in class. Peers made fun of my imagination as much as they did my appearance. Expressing myself with art started to become a source of shame and fear rather than something that made my heart and soul feel happy.

Reading and writing were fortunately things that stuck around in my life as I got older. At least until I had a creative writing teacher that diminished my belief in myself completely my sophomore year in high school. I won't go into that here, but you can read more about that experience in this Medium article I wrote awhile back.

Painting was another love of mine I managed to hold onto into adulthood. Though, it was something I felt like I had to hide. The older I got, the more critical I became of what I was creating. More trauma. More shame. More feelings of inadequacy contributed to me painting less over time.

Finding myself in the music festival world where art is alive at every turn, I started to feel the pull to create again. I would paint or draw something here and there, but the fear and inadequacy remained. I was surrounded by true artists creating magnificent pieces. I felt like an imposter to call myself an artist. I have still found it difficult to create—even more difficult to share—living in a world where so many people are hypercritical of others in ways intended to tear down, not provide anything constructive.

For a few years now, I have slowly been waking up my inner child. Drawing inspiration from my life experiences, I have been writing again. Not many people read my work, but at least I can say I have been putting it out there instead of keeping it hidden in a journal or hard drive. This blog and my YouTube channel have given me the opportunity to share my photography and get into video editing as well. I try not to focus on the low viewership, interaction, or feedback because that isn't why I do it, but it can be the little devil of doubt on my shoulder sometimes. Why do we chase numbers and popularity contests to find validation in the things that are supposed to make us happy?

Coming back home to my imagination began with picking the pen back up, but it has become so much more than that. These last few months, I have felt the momentum shifting as I begin to flow with more ease. Ideas are coming in rapid-fire, reminiscent of the nonstop creation of my childhood. I have started to become more fearless in my expression no matter what medium it is. Now, I even view my speaking voice as part of my artistry when I once hated to hear myself talk.

I want to share my newest endeavor I have taken on that prompted me to write this.

At the beginning of my spiritual awakening deepening, I had a vision while meditating. I sketched it out on a canvas and laid the base color over. I never touched it again. It has been a source of shame and fear every time I look at it for the last two years. Recently, I have been asking myself: If I feel so much shame about never finishing the creative ideas I have, why do I carry shame when I do create them?

What is worse? Having an idea that dies before it leaves my mind or the rough draft? Or seeing it through even if it isn't a masterpiece by someone else's standards?

I have given this a lot of thought as I decided to pick the paintbrush up again with the voice of my dear friend Amy, Golden Goddess, in my mind telling me, "You should paint more. You're really good!" Of course, I have always replied with a self-depreciating remark to each compliment she has given me because I have never felt like I deserve it.

I now understand why. It all has to do with why I stopped creating as I got older. The more I learn to quiet the critic in my mind demanding I must meet certain criteria to be worthy and focus on her positive encouragement, the more revelations have been hitting me. I am sure they are not groundbreaking to many creatives out there, but this is the first time I am really facing them, accepting, and letting go.

Revelation 1

Comparison is the death of creativity.

Art is about expression first and foremost. It is unique to the individual expressing it regardless of skill level.

When I drew as a kid, my dad would talk about art school. Art to me has always been intuitive. I never liked the idea of someone telling me there is a right or wrong way to create. So, why have I placed that limitation upon myself by telling myself that my artistic expression is unworthy because I do not have the technical skills of others and prefer to do things my own way? There are no rules. Isn't that the beauty of art?

Revelation 2

Worrying about outside perception and validation is the death of creativity.
Any artist will tell you they want people to see their art and feel something when they look at it. Many want people to admire the art they create. But the thing is, art is subjective, not everyone appreciates a Picasso, Van Gogh, or Andy Warhol.

People that don't spend time creating tend to be the harshest and LOUDEST critics of those that do create. Those are the voices that have always gotten stuck in my head when those are the people I shouldn't listen to. For a long time, I mistook their voices as my own. Those types of people don't understand the meaning behind creating art because they do not feel and do it themselves. Most people that truly understand what art is are supportive just because you create. Bottom line, you should create because your soul calls you to create, not to please the world. If it makes you feel good to make it, it's good art.

Revelation 3

Perfectionism is the death of creativity.
Humans aren't perfect, so why do we expect our creations to be? Our imperfections add to the beauty of what it means to be human.

I have been learning how to bypass that critical voice by attending a monthly poetry group where I always share what I write. It was scary and uncomfortable at first, but now, I look forward to reading my words to the group and have even done a few open mic nights. That voice in my head used to be crippling as I would start, stop, and throw away ideas and creations. I held myself to ridiculously high standards I knew I couldn't meet that left me afraid to even try. It became an excuse as to why I couldn't do this or that even if it was something that I felt drawn to explore. We obsess over this all or nothing mentality when isn't life just a bunch of mistakes that we learn and grow from along the way? Why can't creating art be the same way?

As Bob Ross put it,