When the Color Came Back

A few years ago, I had the opportunity to get a professional critique from a renowned artist from NYC. 

Our introduction was a bit slow and awkward, but the conversation quickly shifted into feedback on my work.  As a self-taught artist, I knew that I didn't have a lot of learned skill and talent, but hearing it reflected so directly was difficult.  He pointed out areas where I lacked understanding, particularly in areas of color theory and depth.  He gave me suggestions, and some tips and tricks to learn and grow from; on how to mix ratios of paint colors to achieve more dimension. 

While I found a lot of value in what he shared, his delivery felt discouraging.  There was little encouragement for what I had already accomplished, or on the path I had taken to get there.  I left with a heavy feeling, overwhelmed that I had way too much work to do before creating another art piece that was worthy.  I questioned if any of my art was good enough, and if I should even continue creating at all. 

At the time, I had already been pursuing an art-based business for a couple of years.  I never started creating to compete or to prove myself.  It was a method of healing for me, and an inspiration for others to express themselves and heal as well.  I would create commissioned pieces for clients, as well as offer life coaching sessions and art workshops while working to expand my offerings.  It was important for me to maintain a flexible schedule so that I could be present and available for my kids while I was also navigating that healing. 

While it seemed that my business was starting to flourish, and I had the potential to continue to grow, I allowed that experience to shape the way I saw myself as an artist.  I wasn't fully prepared for what a critique like that would feel like, and I found myself holding onto more of the discouragement than the guidance.   At first, I thought that I could learn more about these concepts, to use the feedback to improve, but that initial motivation quickly shifted into self-doubt.  I continued to question my work, my direction, and even my place in the creative world. Without realizing it, that self-doubt was impacting the energy I was putting into my business. 

This was one of several tipping points that pulled me away from my art and from my self expression.  Not too long after this exchange, I started to believe that art and creation didn't matter anymore.  I lost sight of why I started creating in the first place, and I eventually closed my business and stopped expressing myself creatively.  While I still took on a few commissions here and there, the energy was different.  

After stepping away from art, life became quieter.  It was a huge transition from self-expression and community, to becoming more isolated and heavy.  I wasn't creating, and began to lose myself in that transition.  

Then earlier this year, something shifted.

My sister and I went to a concert for a group that my dad was a part of, called Cuatro Puntos, which is a non-profit organization dedicated to bringing visibility to persecuted and underrepresented artists and musicians across the world. During that performance, a woman shared a poem from Afghanistan, where art and music are not allowed, and creative expression can come with serious risks.  

To Fight For Freedom

author unknown

To fight for freedom, to fight for peace

When your soul is restless, your heart is broken

In the depths of the night, carrying burdens all alone

Chasing dreams, seeking lights, scars to atone.

When the heart abides, the courage in our core

Helps us fight for freedom, to fight for sunshine

Changing our destiny with the courage in our heart

Brave as a warrior in the world of injustice and war.

I will take you to a new world of freedom and love

Where peace reigns and school bells chimes above

To fight for freedom, to fight for love.

I stay, I fight, I win, with the magic of my paint

Turning the war's light to freedom's glow.

In the land of humanity, where injustice shall not sow

I will take you to a new destination, where our hearts sing.

To fight for freedom, to fight for life

I stay, I fly, I fight, with the strength in my soul

Dancing in the sky of freedom, with long, tousled hair.

In the beauty of her eyes, wild, free, an enchanting soul

Brave, an angel in a world of beauty, holding our dreams. 

I was deeply moved by the poem, and by the magnitude of what I was experiencing throughout the performance.

Afterward, my sister and I found ourselves talking about it, about how different our life experience is, and how we have the ability to create freely... nothing and no one is stopping us.  And yet, I had stopped myself.  

So I decided in that moment that I would paint again. 

For those who risk putting their lives on the line to bring more color to the world. 

And I wouldn't allow expectations and perfectionism and color theory get in the way of it.  

Not for validation or comparison, but simply because I can.

And maybe even more than that, to remind others that they can, too.

And that is When the Color Came Back.