I wish I was extraordinary
Creativity, anxiety, and more existential thoughts
This past summer, I went on a big (mostly solo) Europe trip. I backpacked through France (Lyon, Annecy, Nice) and Monaco, met up with my family in Sardinia, Italy, went solo again to the Netherlands and Belgium, and ended my trip with a week in Paris.
I must’ve gone to at least a dozen different museums during my time there and man, was I so inspired to create things and paint! I packed a few art supplies with me, but admittedly barely touched any of it. I let it go though because I really just wanted to take in everything I saw—historic buildings, impressionist art, cobblestone streets, the last village van Gogh ever lived in, all of it! I was excited to come home and hit the ground running with all the creative pursuits I had envisioned myself doing.
And when I got home…..
I didn’t do anything.
Sure I had just come back after a whole month of traveling through 5 different countries and was super jet-lagged, but my mind works a mile a minute and I always want to do—or make—something. I don’t really know how to take things one step at a time and rest. If anything, I’m usually taking 5 or 7 steps at a time, juggling more than I can handle in an effort to push my limits and triumph at self-improvement.
I was in a funk, desperately trying to get out of it. I had consumed so much good artwork and inspiration. Maybe I was overwhelmed with imagery, but couldn’t I digest it all faster and make something already?
Starting is always the hardest part. I felt like Bambi trying to walk for the first time. Did I even ever know how to draw or paint something? Did I forget how?
I cut paper and put images together; I gathered all the supplies I needed from the small, specific, hard-to-reach crevices in my bedroom/studio; I set up my space the way I liked it. I started, little by little. Even if my body was resisting it. Then, I fell into a rhythm, worked through the rough edges, and finally started having fun…I think…?
I started preparing for 2 night markets I had signed up for, months before. Each was a 3-day ordeal that would happen over 2 different weekends. Enough to keep me busy. But then I decided to enroll into two different classes as well—an intermediate pottery class and a quilting class. And ooh, I guess it was time to update my entire website and move my online shop as well. I wanted to do everything under the sun even if it meant crashing and burning a little…
And I guess I did it all?
I did it all haphazardly, clumsily, barely made-it-out-ily? I can make lots of things decently, I guess, but never at the standard I set for myself. I think it’s because it’s always been hard for me to focus on just one thing. I have to do multiple things at the same time.
I don’t know if anyone else feels this way, but a lot of the time, I feel like I need to fit myself into a box—a box that specifically says I only do one thing. I either only focus on painting or drawing and that’s it. For a while now, I guess this is how I felt was the only way to be extraordinary. Just stick to one thing and get really good at it. Be the best at it. So if that’s my definition of being extraordinary, then does that mean I can never be? Because I love learning and exploring different interests. I am ferociously captivated by things I haven’t done yet and want to try. I am intensely curious about life and what people are capable of making.
Is it selfish or childish or weird to want to be extraordinary? Is that just capitalism grabbing me by the collar forcing me to hustle and seek constant self-improvement or…is it part of the real struggle of being a creative—just never being satisfied with what you make and constantly reaching higher? My pursuit of growth sometimes lends itself to unhealthy habits and thoughts. Compliments can make me uncomfortable. I know people mean well, but compliments make me feel like I have to live up to something or that I have to live up to be someone or an ideal. What if I’m not who people think I am?? What if I don’t want to be what they think I am? What if I tricked everyone into thinking that I’m a certain way when I’m not? Does any of that even make any sense?
I dunno, hahah. But all this to say that I’m having trouble starting another thing again after finishing multiple month-long projects! We’ll see what happens next, I guess. The hardest part is starting and finding a rhythm.
Sometimes, I wish my mind was not anxiety-fueled and I was just one of my silly duck doodles.
But I’m a complex, anxious human dealing with complex, anxious emotions. The way my mind works—waves of creativity ebb and flow…and I’m at a timely ebb.
Time to rest…so…I’ll see you at my next creative outburst?
