Ideas (we’re fresh out)

Ink and watercolour on paper, 8×10

I am sure most creative people feel this way at one point or another, in intervals.

Fortunately for me it seems that usually, once I admit that I have nothing left in the well of ideas and have given up on creating anything, that well fills up quickly, and once again I’m filled with a tonne of new ideas that were just waiting to erupt. It’s as though my brain just needed a break to muddle through and come up with something else. And it doesn’t take that long.

That is always unexpected and delightful. And when this happens here, with art, I rarely worry for longer than a second because I trust that inspiration will return in one form or another. And if it doesn’t for a while, that’s okay too. I have the luxury of not having to rely on art for a living. I am a teacher and love my day job. There’s no pressure to be a certain type of artist. To be great.

Because of this, art remains something I do purely for fun. For me, this removes almost all self-doubt and self-inflicted pressure to produce anything. There are really no expectations on me; no one expects me to do anything with this, no one expects it will lead anywhere, and… it doesn’t have to.

I have no art teachers who are waiting for me to produce a brilliant masterpiece. My family doesn’t think of me as an artist. My friends are surprised when they find out that I’m the one painting and drawing these things.

This could be seen as bad, because why do it if not for recognition? Truth be told, I find it incredibly freeing. I draw silly cartoons for my own pleasure and amusement. Because why not?

Sometimes my husband doesn’t even know what I’ve drawn. Case in point, about this drawing…

“Is that… a balloon?”
“No, it’s a lightbulb. Ideas, get it?”
“It looks like a balloon.”
“All right, Doug, it’s a balloon of ideas then.”

Sometimes my drawings make my friends and family smile.

I might make a book of silly drawings, loop it into a story. I might do a kid book, self-publish it, and offer it to my nephews as a gift. I might not.

If this outlet for my sense of humour is only ever just that, well, I am happy.