Oh hello blank page.
Where did two years go? I’m sitting here looking at my blog and wondering where the last two years went since I sat down to share what I’ve been writing. It’s funny how time can slip past us without us even realizing it.
It’s not like I haven’t written anything. But between major life changing seasons, a broken website (gotta love technology,) and job changes, my writing took a leave of absence. There are times when leaving the blank page for another time is simply necessary.
Why is it blank pages, blank canvases, are so daunting? Why are they so terrifying? So paralyzing?
I’ve thought about giving up on my blog. Life gets busy when your kids become teens and then you go through seasons and wonder how much you should or even can share.
And are blogs even a thing anymore?
I’ve struggled over the past couple of years to make time for my creativity. I’ve always loved to write. Then came scrapbooking & card making. Then came art. God gave me the gift of craftsmanship. I come from makers. My daddy loves to build and do woodworking. My mother used to crochet, paint, and make cards until her health declined. We also seem to have passed it down. My son loves to build. My niece loves to paint and draw.
I’m a maker. It’s not only in my blood, it’s how God created me. I love creating things. Yet it’s the thing that gets put off.
And when do you call yourself a writer or an artist or a maker? Is there some line you have to cross to be considered these things? Why is it when it comes to creativity we don’t think we can call ourselves by those titles? I don’t have a problem calling myself what my job title says I am. Why is it when it comes to the creative fields we can feel like such imposters?
Over the past couple of years, I don’t get near enough creative time. I look at the blank page and words don’t come. I prep the canvas or pull out the art paper and I find myself frozen in front of the blank canvas. I still find time to make cards but don’t scrapbook or paint near as much I want to. Really, when it comes down to it, I’m overthinking it.
But I remembered something while talking to my sister-in-law not too long ago. She’s also an artist but has felt stuck like me. Our conversation brought to my mind the age old truth about creativity. Creativity breeds creativity.
You have to be intentional. You have to sit your rear end down and show up at the blank page or at the blank canvas and just start. It can be gibberish or random strokes that may mean nothing. Just be intentional. Show up. Do the work. Don’t worry about the outcome.
Fall is in the air which is helping my mindset tremendously. Even though the world is still upside down, and not in the upside down Jesus kind of way, I’m sensing a shift in my spirit. I need to put my fingers to the keyboard and canvas and paper. I’m not whole if I don’t. So here’s to showing up at the page and canvas at least for a few minutes on the daily. A few words or a few strokes or a few pieces of paper cut. Not caring if it’s not perfect. Not caring what others think of it. Being at peace with everything being a work in progress. Here’s to making and writing and remembering I was created to be a maker.