I’m a creative and curator of ideas. I love to place beauty and life before my eyes because the inspiration sends my heart soaring. I’m all in; sights, smells, sounds, and all. It’s a captivating experience in which I both lose and find myself all at the same time. My way of gathering ideas and words into an art form are how I give to this world and to those who, just as I, look on in creative hunger to find and ignite something more within.The ability to see and feel intensely is a great talent, one that enables me to relive and reproduce looks and ideas in my own style. It’s amazing and something uniquely my own, but can also be a weakness, for in the process lies the deadly game of comparison.
Comparison is often automatic, an unconscious thought that follows each creative one. It has the power to stop and dry every idea up, never satisfying our desperate need to be. When admiration turns into comparison, that spark we see in another is what we lose sight of in ourself. Our originality is lost. We lose our flavor and can no longer see. It’s a wonderful thing this art of creating and showing, but if we confuse the order and seek to only create what others want, our fountain will ever be dry.
Living out our talents in unhealthy ways cause us to juggle conflicting desires. The desire for expression is out-ruled and crippled by the need of acceptance, frustrating the creative process and making us feel as if there’s no way out. That’s where I always found myself, seemingly stuck with no where to go, no way to break free unless that’s what I did - break. I’d break down emotionally as my only way of relief from the confusion, yet meanwhile leaving both desires unmet. While observing an idea or style, I’d get lost in another’s taste, considering it’s entirety rather than just taking sprinkles of inspiration to accompany mine own. With my choice to find help through an emotional crisis, I unintentionally came up against these areas of brokenness and chains that I didn’t know I had. It happened naturally and spontaneously, and their absence revealed the true me who I found to be more confidently mysterious and lovely than I would have ever imagined.
It’s been a long, hard phase of learning how to handle my creative heart, of absorbing the sights and smells so grand and simply releasing the ones that are not. I have found my style through healing. It had always been there, and mental health gave me confidence to boldly stand upon my identity, which is the foundation of my creativity. I’ve got handfuls of passions and interests and unhealthy ones fading away. Things are happening, and finding self-love has enabled my creativity to flow like never before.
So with much more to be said and even more to be created...