After decades of avoiding the desire to paint (because I didn’t know how and wasn’t an artist), I let myself take a few lessons from a friend in the spring of 2014. It was thrilling! By the end of
the class, I knew I wanted to create abstract paintings.
I didn’t have an easel at home, so I put my first big canvas on top of old sheets on a tile floor in the basement. “Ouch!” said my knees and back, as I worked
hunched over and crawled around the hard surface to paint in a room with no windows and one overhead light. (Ha ha! What a great start.)
I was also reluctant to spend money on canvases or paint and brushes, always hearing
the voice, What are you doing? And, Who do you think you are? You’re not an artist!
I worked on that first big canvas over and over. It probably ended up weighing five pounds! Despite some reservation, and
feeling terrified that I would make a fool of myself, I started taking abstract painting classes once a week at an art store later that fall.
Because I didn’t have an easel, I didn’t paint much at home, only in class. I
was starting to want an easel, but I never looked into them once I saw what they cost. I couldn’t justify spending several hundred dollars on one without believing my art was good enough, even though I loved it.
My next
door neighbor had a wood-working shop in his basement and in the spring of 2015, I asked him if he could build an inexpensive easel for me. He said he’d try and it turned out great.
I had some embarrassment when he
brought it over because it seemed like an official declaration of purpose to own this thing. I didn’t even know if I was going to keep painting, but I figured it was better to have wasted fifty dollars on scrap materials than three hundred dollars on the real thing.
My accidental, amateur-turned-professional art story is available on my website so let me fast forward a little. I have used the heck out of that easel and felt like big stuff having it. I could raise and lower it to accommodate any canvas size I worked on,
and it was strong enough to support the really big ones. It did everything I needed it to do, just like the ones in class, even if it was a bit clumsy to adjust and a little less visually appealing.
A classmate saw my
easel once when I shared a photo of a new work in progress and she said, Wow Angela, your easel! She didn’t mean that in a good way, judging by the tone of her voice and the look on her face. I gathered she was shocked at how crude it was. I remember the degree of her surprise, and that surprised me.
What?! I thought to myself, It’s an easel, it works way better than being on the floor and certainly as good as the ones we use in class (which were beat up and old). I didn’t understand what the big deal was, but that’s because I had never shopped for a real easel. I didn’t know what I was missing.
In preparation for hosting an artist retreat this year (see announcement below!), I began shopping for easels that would travel well. I visited an art supply store in December and asked them to give me an introduction to everything easels. I had no idea about their possible features besides lifting and lowering. My mouth dropped open a few times with oohs and aahs. They had some really nice easels, not just for travel, but for the studio
also.
I purchased several light-weight but sturdy easels for the retreat, and also decided to reward myself with a real easel for my studio. It's amazing! I can adjust the painting angle to avoid unwanted light
reflection. Instead of taking several minutes to manually adjust the height, which was often a deterrent to changing it, now I just pull two metal pieces and it quickly slides up and down with ease. I can even lay it completely flat for certain techniques I was still doing on the floor. It’s pretty, too!
I had no idea what I was missing, and kept my head in the sand to keep not knowing. I reasoned what I had was good enough and was grateful for it. “Good enough” in that context comes from a lack-mentality and a feeling that I don’t deserve better.
A quick disclaimer: sometimes "good enough" is an ideal place to land. When I constantly chase perfectionism in other areas, wasting countless hours and running myself ragged, I am learning to say “good enough” is good enough. So hang with me, I’m not saying everything has to be the best. But sometimes we don’t give ourselves permission to thrive, or access resources
within our means that can help us live fuller lives, because we don’t value ourselves or our work enough.
Maybe you currently can’t identify any “want” or “need” that would improve or enhance your life, because you don’t
let yourself see what’s out there. We don’t know what we’re missing if we don’t let ourselves look around. It doesn’t cost anything to do research for ways to show up better or easier in our work or lives.
Or maybe you do
know of something you’d really enjoy, but you’re telling yourself everything is working just fine as is, and you can do without it? Maybe the idea of opening yourself up to "more" or "better" is too scary or overwhelming, and it’s just easier to stick with what’s familiar?
You may be thinking of an item that you’ve wanted for a long time, or maybe there’s an ideal schedule that would make your life easier, but you haven’t been willing to make the needed changes. Maybe you’ve considered a move, or a new job? But the thought of it ends quickly in overwhelm, uncertainty and/or some form of "I do not deserve” language, which circles back to things are “good enough” and "I can settle for this."
We can’t stay small and hide from what overwhelms or scares us, without also hiding from opportunities, prosperity and abundance.
An anorexic or poverty mindset is a red flag of a bigger issue that wants attention. In fact, there may be several parts of you crying for attention, like my initial desire to paint, which I ignored for far too long. I’m a pretty nice person, but I sure can be mean and stingy with myself.
How nice are you, to you?
What if just today, you let yourself say what you might really need or want? What if you allowed yourself ten minutes to explore the available options? How could life be a little easier, efficient, or more fun with a kindness offering to yourself?
My new easel will pay for itself with the first sold painting. I can’t believe I waited this long. But actually I can. A “stingy with self” mindset takes years to develop and it’s no easy thing to kick it to the curb. But I’m hoping you are encouraged to at least consider entertaining a small (or large) reward for yourself that is long overdue and well-deserved. If
this speaks to you, I would love to hear what you are motivated to do for yourself.
They say we don’t know what we’ve got until it’s gone. I say, “We don’t know what we’re missing, until we let ourselves see what else is
out there.” Have fun exploring!
