Here I am listening to Kieth Green plunking his heart out on the piano and this familiar desire rises up within me to create. The only place I can sing my heart out is when I am alone. It 's not something I could share.
I have an old friend that I never knew to be an artist or even mildly creative in our teens who now creates the loveliest things to bring beauty to others. The longing within me builds. I used to draw until I played with paints. Then I could hardly get my drawing done fast enough so I could paint. I have several artistic friends who can create pictures from the images and concepts in their mind. Their detail is inspiring and the level of their ability enables them to communicate. My art is mostly about my own enjoyment, color usage, texture and color. I struggle for accuracy and the finished product does very little to speak the messages of my heart. There is very little about it that could be shared at an inspiring level with others.
My creativity has felt damned up. Yet, all along creativity has been trickling out of me. It leaks out into conversations I have with my children; the way I entertain and teach them. It pours itself into nearly every meal I make. Healthy meals on a sometimes non existent budget need creativity. Creating a smooth running, homey environment while my physical gas tank is empty is indeed a call for creativity. True, all these things are satisfying things to accomplish as the wife and mother of my home. I have men in the making standing before me daily needing input, love, direction, acceptance, and encouragement. It is the best investment I can make. Aside from being a wife it is the best thing I can give my creative life force to. I realize as I write this I am not looking to replace these things, but my longing is for an outlet to express the journey. Sometimes what seems like missed opportunities are only a hand of redirection. I would probably still be trying to produce mediocre paintings were it not for the limiting situations that have backed me into a corner forcing my creative hand hand to write and my fingers to type!
I am no musician but there is a new song in my heart. I am no artist but there is a portrait on the canvas of my heart. I am not sure that I am even a writer, but there is a message being developed within me...I must write for me, and for you whoever you are.