Safety Drains the Art Out of Living

Turns out, I'm a creative person. Who knew? Certainly not me! I never considered myself "artsy" even though I'm a writer because, to me, writing non-fiction is like writing a book report. You get the facts, you jot them down. I'm not a novelist or a playwright, though I've tried to be. I admire people who can lay out a fictional story and bring it to life. I long to be that way! By page ten, I'm ripping my hair out.

Back in August, I was given the opportunity to design some t-shirt designs for Amy Grant to sell on tour. If you don't know by now, I am a HUGE Amy Grant fan and have been for 20+ years. It all started when I painted the song lyrics to "Better Than A Hallelujah" and sent them off to my friend, who also happens to be Amy's manager. The next thing I knew, I was a shirt designer.

I enjoyed it so much I started painting other stuff. I have fallen in love with painting and over the past 2 months, I have done far more painting than writing. As wonderful as this is, it has made me realize that my love of writing has withered a bit. I used to write constantly but now I find it hard sometimes to really let go with words. This may sound odd, but I blame it on Facebook and the fact that I have virtually no anonymity anymore. Most writers would consider that a good thing. The more readership, the happier we are, right? Instead, I find myself a little put off by the fact that most of my family is on Facebook and a lot of them read and comment on what I write.

Friends and complete strangers applaud your honesty, whereas family cringes and begs you to keep things to yourself. I used to be very open and blunt about my life, but you don't see that too much anymore on this blog. Oh, have I mentioned no one in my immediate family has ever read my book or even owns a copy of it? So you see why I'm a little timid about opening the floodgates on Blogger.

I miss it, though. It was therapeutic. Writing about fluff and avoiding the deeper stuff takes some of the joy out of writing for me. I'm trying to regrow my coconuts so I can try and do that a little more.

When I paint, it's pretty cut-and-dry. Either you think I paint pretty stuff or you think I stink. Nobody looks at my paintings and calls my mother to ask her what's wrong with me. Nobody emails me to warn me to stop being so personal. Most of the time, what I write winds up in a drawer anyway. I could paint a picture of puppies eating a baby and none of you would ever know.

I've chosen painting over writing because it's safer. I've never liked playing it safe. It takes the art out of living.

Hopefully, I will be able to return to this blog a bigger, better loudmouth than ever before. Pin It