Art Gives Me Anxiety

My worst grade in high school was pottery class. No matter how hard I tried, my pieces

just never looked like the examples. Not only that, people still ask my mom if one of my “special” students made the vase she keeps in her kitchen. Nope, just her incredibly uncreative, nonartistic daughter who had so much anxiety in class that she ended up pelting the instructor in the face with clay trying to get assistance.

Girls’ Night at The Palette? I think I have other plans. Wait, will there be stencils there? I stare at the blank canvas and see nothing. Left to my own devices I am uninspired and inhibited. Sure, they walk you through it step by step, but what happens when the colors mix together and things go outside the lines? My heart is racing even as I write this. See, I am a self-proclaimed Type A personality: I like order and predictability. And art is about creativity and freedom, can those things co-exist? I’m kind of hoping they can. I don’t want to be rigid in my thinking or afraid to express myself, I really don’t. Am I so worried about the final product that I can’t just let loose and create?

They say lefties are more creative and artistic, but you do not want me painting you a picture or singing you a song, I guarantee. I believe we all have gifts and we certainly don’t need to be good at everything. But now I’m thinking about that mindset--what does it mean to be “good at” art? Is that even a thing? Maybe it should be more about the process and the chance to express ourselves no matter what it looks like! Go to any art museum and you’ll see a wide range of what is considered art. Beauty is truly in the eye of the beholder. Maybe I need to have a little more grace with my attempts and see the beauty behind the process. Even if that means coloring outside the lines. Gasp.

My daughter inspires me. She charges into art projects like nobody’s business. Painting, drawing, mixing mediums (although lately that largely consists of soap and food coloring)...often times I’ll ask her what she’s making and she’ll respond, “I have no idea.” That baffles me, but I envy it. No agenda, no expectations, no judgement. What would happen if I lived my life a little more like that? Of course it all needs to be cleaned up afterward. Sorry, Type A habits die hard.