“Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.”

– William Wordsworth

Someone asked me recently why I write.  With that challenge for a response still circling in my mind, I was drawn to Wordsworth’s advice to “fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.”  It certainly touches on one aspect of my motivation for writing; but today it is more applicable to another adventure I have chosen to pursue — one that will take me to less-charted waters.

On April 25, I will begin a journey through those unknown seas as I participate in a really cool Art Journaling workshop with my online friend, Queen Dani.  For many of you, I know, an art workshop would be just filled with anticipation and confidence.  For me, the thought of picking up paper and pencil and glue and paint leaves me feeling just a bit intimidated.  When I was in seventh grade, I took a mandatory Art class in school.  There was one particular assignment that for years has shaped my idea of myself as an artist.  We used geometric shapes laid in repeating patterns to create a textile design in tempera paints on not-so-great drawing paper.  I followed all the instructions, studying the color wheel and paying attention to complementary colors and a balanced layout.  Then I picked up the brush.  I know now that a thinner brush and less paint might have changed the outcome, but my not-so-interactive teacher spent his time sitting at the desk in the front of the class and waiting for results.

My results were painful to see.  The truth is that if I ever saw textiles with my design on them, I would run the other way.  When my project came back, the notation on the back was “D — did you take off your shoes and walk on the other side of the paper?”  That was it!  I heard it loud and clear.  Don’t quit your day job and think you can be an artist.  I gladly took my paintbrush and hid it far in the deepest recesses of who I am.  I decided that very day that nobody would ever see the humiliating results of my attempt to be a painter.

Some good things grew out of that day.  My own children always have had access to the best paper and paints and pastels and brushes.  Every one of them has displayed artistic talent.  Although their abilities far exceed my own, I have been proud to be the facilitator of their creative expression.  Still, I have struggled for fifty years with the recrimination in that unthinking note on the back of a project that had nothing to do with my own desire to express myself.

When I turned 60, I decided that the next part of my life would be spent stepping outside of my comfort zone and taking advantage of new opportunities.  Unless they are illegal, immoral, or bad for my health, I have embraced whatever new adventures have come my way.  My world is growing all the time as I venture out and explore new territories, including the hidden parts of myself that surface as I make it an intention to embrace what life has to offer.  I have to admit that when Dani’s offer came my way, I nearly let it slip through my fingers.  Then I remembered that this part of my life is the part filled with adventure and new things and learning about who I truly am.  I’ve signed on for the six week journey.  (Did I mention that it’s free?)  What is there to lose?  Already, in pre-workshop discussions and prompts, I’ve met some interesting new friends.  Who knows what we all might learn about ourselves as the adventure unfolds?  The link above will take you to the workshop page — there still is time to take the plunge and see where the journey might lead you.

As for me, I am going to take this opportunity to erase one man’s opinion of my artwork and create my own view of this part of me.  For six weeks, and maybe beyond, I will begin to fill my paper with the breathings of my heart.