The room is large, open, and airy. Light pours in from windows at the top of the walls. When I first walked in, I felt calm...almost soothed. I could be anything in this room. Anything.
Welcome to art class.
Last week, we started sketching shapes for a still life. I sat in front of my canvas, paralyzed. As the instructor came by, she noticed that the few lines I had drawn were light-- almost invisible.
Why did I even take this class?
What was I thinking?
My instructor's voice brought me back into the room. She sized up the nearly empty canvas and turned to me with a knowing smile.
"The only way you can fail is by having an blank canvas.
In trying, you've already succeeded."
I took a breath, blinked back tears, and picked up my pencil.
My blank canvas was no longer something I was going to mess up, rather,
it was the chance to create something beautiful.
It's funny how when you stop worrying about failure-
everything seems like an open possibility.
It is with open, paint-covered palms
I offer the same thought to you-
whatever your dreams are
whatever it feels like your hands were made to do
whatever keeps you up at night with what if's.
dwell in possibility.
make a mess.
get paint on your clothes.
travel the world.
sing, create, do, dwell.
It's okay if it doesn't turn out like you thought it would.
Your lines might be lopsided and your colors too bright.
But it's not about perfection.
It's about celebrating the little things, flaws and all.
It's about creation.