I used to draw a lot. Not because I thought I was good but just because. Do you ever do anything just because anymore? I certainly don’t. Nothing creative anyway. I had all these story ideas and I used to draw how I thought the characters would look, I would design their wardrobes (because I was practising to be a fashion designer), I would draw their worlds and I got so much satisfaction from that, I don’t really understand why I stopped. But one day I did stop. Maybe it was when I started my GCSEs, maybe when I went to University or maybe when reality took over and the cynicism of the world hit me like a sledgehammer to the bridge of my nose. There’s no place for idle doodling when you’ve got coursework or when you’ve got to actually work!
I recently did a little bit of colouring in an adult colouring book and it did nothing for me. I did some colouring in with my kids in a book about fairies and dinosaurs and it was like the lights were back on. There was even some colouring outside of the lines! Even if I’m not good at art, even if no one appreciates my superior artistic talents, I should do what I enjoy.
I’ve been seeing some amazing artists on Instagram, in particular, accounts like this and this, that show how much you can progress. They’re kids doing these drawings, much younger than I am now, but if practice has made them good, it doesn’t matter how old I am, I can possibly get there. Nothing’s guaranteed.
The same can be said for my writing. I used to love writing stories that didn’t go anywhere, that didn’t even necessarily have an end. And why? Because I loved it. Why can’t I write a paragraph and just leave it at that? If it makes me feel good and fulfilled, surely it’s better than watching other people live their dreams and have their ideas come to life. Why can’t it be me? says the super jealous, feels-left-behind-part of me. Even if I don’t see my dreams happen that way, maybe when I die someone will find my doodles and stories and think, hot damn, this sh*t is good. Or the paper may brown, crumble and disintegrate. The hard drives get burnt out or fail to load. Maybe no one ever sees what I’ve done, maybe I don’t ever do anything of cultural significance. Maybe, maybe, maybe…
I have created a list of stuff that I want to buy for my hair and I am now creating a secondary list of things I want to buy so I can draw and write more. Now I am not saying that I will ever be as good as the artists linked to above, or any competent artist for that matter but practice makes better. So practice we will!
There’s no reason why you can’t let the passions of childhood be the passions of adulthood. I shouldn’t be saying I used to be creative. I am creative. I may not work to a standard that will be appreciated by others but that’s okay and like everyone else, I have the potential to be better. Maybe not the best but better. Get me a pencil, minion!
xx woeful writes xx
Comments welcome below. What passions have you left in childhood that you’d like to reignite?
Adapted from a blog post originally published on Woeful To FroFull