Although I’ve been making art for other people most of my life, it may surprise you to know that I never make art for myself.  For too long I’ve held the beliefs that making art for oneself and shamelessly displaying it in one’s home was pretentious, self-indulgent, and a waste of time; in other words, I shouldn’t use my own skills for my own enjoyment.  So when I decided to pick up my paintbrush and paint again just for fun, little did I know that I would dismantle my old thought patterns and begin to heal wounds I didn’t know I had.

For the last couple of weeks I painted with my short easel whenever I had spare time—a rare and valuable thing, nowadays—to make something that will brighten the front entryway of my home.  Having not painted on a canvas for so many years, I forgot how freeing and therapeutic it can be.  By letting my busy and overactive mind take a backseat in my creative process, I allowed my paintbrush and intuition to be my guides, and I fully immersed myself in the flow of painting once again.  There was no pressure to finish my art at a certain time, no one to submit sketches to, no professor providing un-constructive criticisms, no anxiety about posting to social media, and no nagging inner-critic to appease.  It was just me and the stillness I sometimes feel whenever I create something new.

And that stillness, that sage and wise teacher, had so much wisdom to share with me.

The stillness gently reminded me of the importance of play.  Although this insight isn’t new to me, it is a lesson that I have not yet mastered as an artist. You would think that I would make it a central feature to my art practice but with the demands of running my own business, the responsibilities of adulting, and the pressure to meet deadlines, I just never devoted time to it.

Yet as Albert Einstein once eloquently stated, ‘play is the highest form of research.’

 It’s during play—the time spent creating art freely, uninhibitedly, and joyfully—that I feel the most fulfilled.  My imagination runs wild and my need for perfection is (nearly) obsolete.  I just flow with whatever my mind and heart want to create in the present moment.  And by doing so, I’m reminded that having fun and making time for play are not only needed for sustaining a healthy relationship with my art, but it’s also a great way of tending to and caring for my personal well-being.

After years of being a working artist, I no longer think of making art for myself as a frivolous endeavor that I should avoid.  On the contrary, I now think of it as a sacred time to connect with myself. And although I may not always post the art I make for fun, when I do I hope they bring you as much joy to see as they were for me to create.