I never learned how to draw.
In fact, from the very beginning of my school years, I was discouraged from anything that could be called a creative activity. I simply couldn’t — and, more importantly, didn’t want to — paint the still life of apples, pears and grapes the way I was expected to.
So no, I never learned how to draw or paint.
I never learned how to colour within the lines, or how to pair colours “correctly”. I never learned any of those things.
For a very long time, none of it could hold my attention anyway.
But somewhere along the years, I learned something else.
I learned that art, and creating, is not about producing something perfect.
Creativity is a mirror.
A mirror through which we get a glimpse of what is inside us.
And I learned that this mirror can be shown to others.
But from that moment on, it is no longer only our mirror.
Whoever looks into it will see something of our soul, perhaps reflected crookedly or clearly — but at the same time, their own soul will be reflected back at them.
Yes. I learned that too. And somewhere from that point on, I finally began to let go of my dependence on approval, opinions, and criticism.
Because perhaps creating was never about proving that I could draw.
Perhaps it was always about allowing myself to see.
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