Newsprint

Under the somewhat uninspiring headline 'Enjoy brush with creative artists' I have appeared in our local paper.  A small article about an online profile of local artists, of which I am the first to be featured.  There, in black and white, it introduces me as a visual artist and storyteller, the first time I have taken ownership of these 'labels' in print, and I am simultaneously delighted and dubious about my ability to carry it off.  My fear is compounded by the lack of images in the article (save for a picture of me), leaving just a description of my creative drive - that I definitely said - but upon reading sounds a bit pretentious and affected, like the artist I can't help but feel I'm pretending to be daaaarrrling. 

I am seeking to evoke a sense of belonging by being present in the moment.

Urgh!

When being interviewed for the 'How to Fail' podcast Andrew Scott talks about the having the courage of your convictions instead of the almost shameful way in which you say 'I'm an artist', the need to stop apologising for living differently and cultivate instead, an awareness of your own spark of divine fire.  I hear this, I get this, I can't help but feel like I've missed my opportunity to express this. 

Perhaps my biggest regret is the words 'being present in the moment'.  When read back they make me feel like I'm jumping on a mindfulness bandwagon and instantly lose their sincerity, playing straight into my insecurities of pretence and fake.  Add in a week where I have been both mentally and physically exhausted and I've hit enough self sabotage buttons to precipitate on my own parade without having to step outside into the actual rain. I am as dreich as the weather and my mood is definitely more dying embers of idealism than any flicker of eternal flame.  

Yet despite my inability to find a better phrase, I hope mindfulness is a practice that will stay with me for a life time.  The ability to stop ruminating about the past or thinking about the future to live in the present.  Present being the operative word.  It will come as no surprise to hear me talk of the joy in receiving the gifts sent by Mother Earth on my walk this morning - the fresh sent of pine from Christmas Trees past, sunlight on leaves and sunbeams dancing through foxgloves, or the transient stripes on a tree trunk caused by the recent rivulets of rain that will be gone when you walk past tomorrow. 

But perhaps what I've talked of less it the chance to seek permanence amongst the thick trunks of the long established trees.  To stop long enough to experience a feeling of grounding that comes from being surrounded by nature, that for all that has gone before or what is yet to come, here is where you are and how wise you would be to meet yourself where you're at.

So here I am, like many a creative before me squirming at my own 'performance', yet marvelling at the opportunities that have opened up before me to the point where I have been featured in the paper as an artist!  And, if I'm not yet ready to wear the 'artist' mantle with pride then perhaps rather than letting the walls cave inwards, I will take it as a sign that I'm on the right track, that my work is worthwhile and that, if I allow myself to, here is where I belong.