Sprouts of Creativity

“Don’t half-ass two things, whole-ass one thing”. One of a multitude of quotes that I think holds some sort of aphorism within it, but one that I tend to ignore. When I was younger, I was lucky enough to be able to try out many different activities thanks to my parents and the supportive schools I attended. While all of this exposure has no doubt shaped me each in it’s own way, it has left me dumbfounded as to what I truly love - can’t I love them all? Who is telling me I can’t? Isn’t the future all about intersections between mediums and fields of study?

That is how I choose to see it but the world does not to seem to be agreeing with me quite yet. I don’t seem to find the time to pick up the instruments I once loved to play or the creativity in me to recreate Georgia O’Keeffe works like I once did. It’s a bleak feeling, feeling like you peaked between the ages of 6 and 14. I already feel adult life and responsibilities pulling at me so desperately. And every pull is what makes me long for childhood again in every sense of the word. I miss playing outside with my brother like we were spies on a secret James Bond mission, or dissecting poor worms with a dull gardening shovel, or building volcanoes, or painting for hours without the incessant pestering urge to compare my creation with something or someone else’s. I feel like I am always trying to get back to that little innocent, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed girl that I was once. But I know that there is no “person” to go back to, there is only forwards in this life.

So how does one deal with the creativity-killing responsibilities of adulthood while also not letting go of their inner child and creativity?

I don’t know if I’m writing this with an answer or wanting one in response.

I am trying to navigate my responsibilities with my interests. Last week I drew a family of random mushrooms with oil pastels. Are they cute? Subjectively, I would like to think so, but they also don’t do my prior works justice. But I’m learning that’s okay! Because by simply spending 30 minutes drawing these little organisms, I felt oddly proud of myself. Proud of myself for putting aside some homework, for choosing creativity, and for choosing to do something that was better for my mental health as a homework break rather than scrolling on my phone. I guess maybe adulthood is like childhood in that sense - little accomplishments, little moments to relish in. A good friend of mine once said “Life is good, not always, but it is overall good”. Some days I see this better than others, recently less so than I would like.

Writing is something that I tend to put on the back-burner because I feel like my emotions are something that are less important than my never ending homework assignments and studying, but that isn't true. I shouldn’t have to belittle myself to survive. It isn't much of a survival strategy if I feel as though a part of me is wilting anyhow, is it? I’m trying to be okay with posting shorter, more eclectic thoughts on here, but for right now I seem to be obsessed with length and going over the same topic fifty times front-ways, sideways, and inside out. (To my journalism friends - I’m sorry, I’m a stickler for the oxford comma.)

If I had to make a small apothegm for this piece, it would be this: sometimes you need to put away your computer and work and draw little mushrooms.

-AG