Two people close to me recently reminded me to re-find my creativity.
For my entire life, creativity has been an outlet for me, along with exercise. I’m just now getting back into consistent workouts after my hip injury but I still needed to find my flow through making art, without any judgment or fear.
My emotions follow my energy and vice versa. When I don’t express myself creatively, something feels like it’s missing and I don’t always realize it’s art that’s missing.
There’s a deepness beyond just feeling how the paintbrush glides along a canvas. And sometimes, when getting back into expressing myself creatively, there can be a mental block to get started. That’s why I like to choose a different approach to art when getting back into creating.
From nothing, you can make everything.
I’m writing this post seconds after my hand was inside a tub of gesso and then model paste.
Today, I wanted to get messy.
There was a half-painted canvas staring me in the eye for far too many months. Although it was beautifully unfinished and received many compliments, it didn’t feel finished in my eye and I felt stuck, unsure of what direction to take it. Recently, I decided I was going to paint over it and immediately, I ordered materials - gesso primer and model paste, which were inspired from the trendy “textured art” I’ve been seeing online.
Without hesitation, I grabbed a thick brush to transport gesso primer to the sizable canvas. Slowly, the canvas began to turn white again. The floral pattern disappeared.
A white canvas. Starting over.
With AirPods on, reality faded away. The pop dance music in my ears took me over. Every tune randomly chosen from my “liked” song hit extremely right. At this point, the canvas was moved from the wooden easel to the trash-bag protected table. My body moved with the music, head nodding, legs unable to stop dancing.
My eyes glance toward the large tub of model paste. I try to scoop up the paste with a wooden ceramic tool. As my body decided my next move instead of my brain, I toss the tool and let my hand move freely inside the tub. I curve my hand to hold onto as much paste as possible and push it along the center of the canvas.
My undeniable smile grows. The feeling of incredible glee.
Back and forth, the paste begins to take shape. Model paste feels like a mixture of acrylic paint and glue. If you create a mound of paste on a canvas, it will dry in this position. Any tool used specifically molds the paint in a certain way and it will dry just like that - no hiding impurities. Model paste speaks for itself. It yells “I’m imperfect” and yet, the artwork is beautiful, perfect to the right eye.
Switching between my hands, a painter’s knife, and a comb, I create shapes, undo them, and make more. The story of creating this artwork has layers and no one other than me will know the full story. Most will just see the art in its final, published form.
Music, dancing, model paste.
Flow.
If you’ve reached the sense of intense creative flow, it is a special feeling.
Ecstacy.
I wanted the feeling to last forever in this moment. But there were moments where I found clarity, remembered where I was, and took a step back to look at the creation in whole.
A single stroke on canvas could alter the entire emotion conveyed. had to feel interesting, unique, cohesive, and bring more of a peaceful sense rather than disruptive feeling.
Art conveys emotion. Emotion drives art.
Today, I re-found my creativity. And I appreciate my support system for knowing what I specifically needed. Expressing myself through art helps me feel more like myself.
This post focuses on a “little moment” that doesn’t feel so little. I think the most important part is recognizing how much joy I felt, savoring it, and writing about it.
For those reading, what’s your outlet? How can you find flow?