April 1, 2011


I left the studio a few nights ago feeling overwhelmed and frustrated.  I had spent most of the day there, stuggling through several drawings and trying to decide which of my over 40 watercolors to actually use. 
Finally, I just gave up.  I had lost my purpose.  
All I could see ahead was a dark and dangerous alley with a dead end.

And after several hours of doubt and debating whether or not I should just toss in the art towel, I decided to just go home.  And I did the only thing I had the emotional energy for...


It's pretty amazing what a good night's sleep can do. 
I woke up refreshed to find that the feeling of hopelessness had been replaced by a little tiny spark that, to me, was as bright as beacon.  Something inside me had changed. 
I had a new and invigorating sense of purpose which, for any artist, is essential to survival.  Without purpose, one can very quickly spiral into a state of depression and hopelessness...a dangerous, yet tempting territory I try very hard to steer away from. 

I decided that instead of feeling sorry for my under-educated self, I'd just have to buck up and face the reality of my incompetency.  To tell you the truth, embracing my ineptitude is actually a pretty freeing thing.  I am never more grateful to the Lord for His grace as when I truly understand my own inadequacy. 

And guess what?
A rush of new ideas has since filled my being.  I've been able to think more clearly and have reached a new level of productivity (that began with a fresh order of new drawing pencils and watercolor paper!).

I think it will be ok after all.
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