Here's the story behind this portrait. One day I was sitting in my mother's room, and out of no where I got the urge to draw. Now let me tell you a little bit about me and drawing.....I can't. No more than I can play the cello, can I draw a portrait or anything, so I thought. So who drew this portrait? I did. You see, up until that day, I had allowed myself to believe I was only capable of stick figure drawing, and not very good stick drawing, and insisted that I hadn't the talent nor the patience to learn how to draw (It is most often the latter that henders most people.). And since I was never good at it, as I lead myself to believe, I stopped trying to become good at it.Now let me preface this by saying, I come from an artistic family. Music, writing, drawing painting, acting, boxing, you name it, and it falls somewhere on my family tree, background. However, things have a tendency to skip a generation. And so assuming as that goes, that my drawing abilities weren't visible, I accepted after a few attempts at it, that was my case, and I resigned myself to writing being my contribution as an artist, and that was fine with me.But on this particular day, I got the urge to draw something, and was thinking what could I draw. Meanwhile my mother, reminded me how I hated drawing. Yea, I replied, but not today, today I'm in the mood to draw some stick figures, or something.Then it came to me, why not try to draw my Uncle. Why this came to me I'll never know, but I ran downstairs grabbed his picture off the coffee table, and headed back up to my mother's room, who quickly chastised me for removing her dear beloved brother from his alter...of sorts. Anyway, I sat down and I looked at my uncle, realizing, I couldn't make a mockery out of him by scratching some horrible scribble on cardboard, that would be disrespectful. So now I'm thinking my great idea to draw, was not so great any more. But the desire stuck in my mind. And the more I looked at my uncle, the more I wanted to draw him, and the more I wanted to draw him the more I was determined to do the best job possible (there's that word possible).So I grabbed a pen, one with an eraser of course and set out to task of drawing my uncle. I can't tell anyone where the creative energy came from or where it was sleeping, accept that the universe answered my request, and by focusing on my intent, I drew my uncle's portrait in less than fifteen minutes. After, which, I sat and stared in disbelief, before, saying "Look mom, look what I've done." After, which the two of us sat in disbelief. (My mother just happens to be one of the gifted and trained artists in the family, who felt pitty on me and my stick figures up to that point.) By the way, at this point I was also in my thrities, so I was quite surprised. Who knew. Even my mother thought for a first time portrait it wasn't all bad.In each individual's head is a boat load of endless possibilities itching to see the light of day. Is it drawing? Maybe its writing, or gourmet cooking, running your own business, learning to play an instrument, what ever the possibilities, they some how find a receptive space in your head and at a moments notice, demand attention. And you might want to think "Where did that come from moment" don't think, just act. The possibility wants to manifest itself and it chose you as the vehicle.Don't second quess possibilities, with doubts, fears, or I can't does, "Make It Happen!"
Comments