Monday, November 14, 2016

Name Calling

I don't know why, but I have a hard time giving myself any sort of creative label.
If you love taking pictures, wouldn't that make you a photographer? Yes. Or if hula-hooping is your hobby, can't I call you a hula-hooper? Yes, I can. And I will.
Singing & playing the piano is a passion of mine. Yet it feels awkward to call myself a musician.

Maybe it's just me. It probably is. (I know it's not.) I can't help it. It's just some odd thing I deal with, I guess.
I live for creating. It fuels me & feeds me to be painting or drawing or writing or crafting: To be making art. I don't just live for it, I "LIVE FOR IT". (Supposed to be said with a deep growly/unintimidating monster voice.) Yet "artist" seems too grand a tag for me.
Other people have called me these names.
"She's an artist," they say. I bow my head in embarrassment. "No, I'm not," I think to myself.
"She's a photographer."
"Stop it," I silently whisper, while diverting my eyes from anyone's gaze.
"She's a writer."
Why can't I call myself these things? I don't know. We all have our own silly little personal trivial things. This is mine.
With some recent encouragement this year I stepped out of my comfort zone. I peeked from my hiding spot to publicly share my art, share my poems, share my color, share my voice.
And eventually I felt ok with calling myself "artist". Seriously, it all clicked today. Today! I was in the kitchen toasting a pumpkin bagel & suddenly I was like, "Oh my gosh. I'm an artist--& a poet. A REAL...LIVE...POET!!!!!!!!!"
And then there was some giggling & a little feet-shuffle-dance-thing going on & then my youngest daughter was like "You're a weirdo, mom." & then my bagel popped up & I had to spread the cream cheese fast because I hate eating cold toasted things...BUT, it clicked.
And now I can't stop saying it. I can't stop thinking it. I feel all legit &, like, with big shoulder pads on, walking around as if I own this place. Ok, not really. The shoulder pads are outta here...
Sometimes it takes time to realize who you are, to be ok with seeing yourself in the positive way others see you, to let the name calling really sink in.
I'm thankful for the process. I'm thankful for all the times I've been called those names in the past because it took that many times of hearing it to equal believing it.

1 comment:

Thank you so much for taking the time to leave a comment. Every time you do, I do a little happy dance. For reals.