Since childhood, I have gravitated towards visual art. It was my first love, even before writing, because when I did not yet know how to formulate words, I understood that color was a phenomenal thing; something peculiar that held infinite possibilities, and I wanted to speak the language of the infinite. In the early years, finger painting allowed me to explore this creativity that yearned to be realized. As I wrote in “on turning 30: entering a second childhood,”
To create anything at all was a fulfilling experience. At six years old, I did not care that my art would likely not be considered valuable in society; I only knew that it fueled me to dip my fingers directly into paint and watch the colors transform into hues I had never seen before. My art was simply a creative expression of being alive in the world, and that was most significant.
I continued to explore my artistic inclinations, grateful for a mother who always enrolled me in art classes and provided me with ample space to create. In elementary school, I would steal every free moment to doodle in the margins of my classwork, never quite having enough time to sink into my passion.
I remember thinking that art class was the greatest place on earth—a magical room where our imagination came to life in a group setting! And of course, my art teacher was the coolest woman on earth, and I wanted to be just like her when I grew up!
I began to take art more seriously in high school. I progressed to the most advanced art class, where technical skill became far more important than it was in my childhood. I loved the challenge of stretching my artistic abilities and seeing what I could produce in various mediums. I developed a portfolio for my university’s art program that was accepted, and my most fruitful creative period followed as I pursued my degree with a concentration in painting.
Throughout school, I had chosen my first love again and again, and it had chosen me, too. After graduating, I dared to dream of building a life together, to settle in with it in a charming home by the water. Let it be cultivated in its own space where the light pours in and creations are birthed in abundance. Yes, this was a love I could tend to. But as we spent more one-on-one time together without the cushion and structure of the group environment, my fears and insecurities became more prominent.
The beast of perfectionism started to reveal its face, and the idyllic life that I could spend with art became disillusioned. I worried that my love wouldn’t be able to provide financially, and that we wouldn’t be understood or seen by the world. And I couldn’t quite shake that pestering belief that I wasn’t good enough, that my first love could really flourish with other people, but not me. I would just hold it back, with my self-doubt preventing me from fully embracing the potential of this love.
For those initial years in the “real world,” our relationship was fickle and erratic. My commitment issues and deep-seated fears led me to break up with my first love. I hid all traces of its existence and buried what we created together, but I couldn’t let go completely. I tried to numb and distract myself with other activities, tried to strip the artist from my identity and mold myself into a more conventional kind of person.
But this love, enduring as it was, continued to appear everywhere as a constant reminder. It plagued my thoughts, haunted my dreams. Art, when not fed, becomes monstrous and unrelenting in its demands.
“The guilt which often accompanies those who do not work, who do not create anything, can be more terrible and destructive than the discipline and sacrifice of work and creation.” —Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 4
Still, the time apart was necessary. It allowed me to reflect on how I was blocking expansion and flow through methods of self-sabotage and an unattainable pursuit of perfection. Eventually, inevitably, I would come crawling back to my love, but there was a need to redefine the relationship if it was going to thrive.
Though my first love was visual art, life has granted me the wonderful experience of falling in love with other forms of art, including writing. My bond to creativity is multifaceted, and my capacity for love cannot be limited. I realized I could not be a visual artist without being a writer, too, as they are of the same thread.
So, I would approach the relationship differently this time around. I had to consider the purpose of our bond, and decide if I wanted it to be a casual fling or a long-term, serious commitment.
There was a sense of destiny here, an ancient union that was far from casual. It seemed that we had lost and found each other continuously in different lifetimes. There was a cosmic reason for this love and its gifts. By accepting it, I would unlock new doors leading to my highest creative potential.
This love has been exceptionally patient with me as I release perfectionism. I am learning how to trust in its guidance and let go of control. And in opening myself up to the ever-flowing energy of this artistic union, I have found liberation.
𖤓 Describe your first love. Whether it’s dancing, cooking, filmmaking, music, etc., can you vividly recall the time when it was introduced into your life?
𖤓 Throughout the years, how have you tended to the relationship with your natural gifts? What do you love and appreciate about this relationship, and what are the areas that could use more attention?
𖤓 Are you in an empowering space of co-creation with your gifts? If not, what do you need to let go of in order to reach your creative potential?
𖤓 Draw a tree that represents a creative gift that is important to you. Label each branch with ways in which you are currently tending to the growth of this gift along with what you plan to do (i.e., bravely sharing your work, purchasing new supplies, taking a dance class).
Draw leaves on the ground and label them with what you need to let go of to allow your gifts to thrive (i.e., procrastination, self-doubt, perfectionism, scarcity mindset).
Thank you for being here. Aside from subscribing, you can support Soul Remedies with a single donation via ko-fi, or by following me on my book account, Blooming Literature.
Another beautiful read to add to the collection, Ayanna. It's so nice learning about your first love too, I hadn't seen this side of your artistry and I love knowing this now. As ever, I love the prompts <3 I would say my first love was reading! I love rebuilding that relationship in my adult life.
I absolutely love the prompts that are included! Journalling is one of my favourite things and I can't think of a better way to reflect on such a beautifully written article <3 !