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I woke up refreshed to find that the feeling of hopelessness had been replaced by a little tiny spark that, to me, was as bright as beacon.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.