I’ve had the draft for this post sitting in my laptop for a few weeks now. I was going to tell you, my readers, about how I was reading Designing Your Life book, and how I was working on my mindset when it comes to my writing and my art. Meanwhile, I haven’t been doing any actual writing and painting/drawing because I’ve been in some sort of limbo – yet again. I think through my self-work I’d finally – but obviously only partially – freed myself of my perfectionism, and the anxiety that I self-induce by setting schedules and deadlines, and the GUILT when I can’t follow them. And I think I finally started feeling that I don’t HAVE to write and paint, and I’m allowed to just flop on the couch after 8 hours of exhausting work and watch my favourite Brokenwood, also because I’ll have to get up after one episode, and do dishes by hand because we don’t have a dishwasher, and cook dinner, and play with the kid, and feed the cats, and pack lunches for tomorrow, etc. etc. It might sound obvious – but it hasn’t been obvious to my internal critic.
And each evening, when I was doing my chores and NOT doing my art, I kept thinking Is this it? Is this the end of the kkolmakov era? *insert self-deprecating laughter* I’d obviously still doodle and write something, but there was just some sort of emptiness. And don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t frustrated, or sad, or worried. I was actually enjoying the unknown. I feel that some people – meaning, ME – are too much of control freaks. The Great Unknown is beautiful. More than anything, I was curious about where it was all going.
And then the pandemic happened, and I started feeling even less like writing and painting. People have other things to worry about, I said to myself.
And then I woke up this morning and realised (I know, I know, but I needed to internalise it, OK? 😀 ) that A. someone might still want to read my silly stuff and look at my doodles. (Thank you, Laura, for your kind comment! I’m constantly thinking about it! <3)
And B. THAT IS WHAT I WANT FROM MY CREATIVITY. I want people to SEE it.
I don’t want to earn money by selling my books. I don’t want to quit my day job. I don’t want to even publish them on Kindle. I don’t want to become an illustrator. I don’t want to sell my art on Etsy. Shipping acrylic paintings has too much carbon footprint. I’ll just email my drawings to people if they want them.
So, I’ll just write, and doodle, and post Blind Carnival on my Wattpad. Remember that one? I bet some of you do. John the Architect? Olivia Dane and her sex experiments? I actually hired a person to proofread it, and I was going to put it on Kindle, and I was thinking it might become a ‘financial success’ *insert another giggle* because it was so popular on the three previous platforms I published it on. And then I thought I’d just post it and people would read it and someone might feel a bit better because of it. Which is literally all I want from my art. I want it to make people feel a bit better. I’m not expecting much. It’s not cocaine after all.
Love you all, my darlings.
Stay safe. Wash your hands.