Something clicked in me a few days ago.
I think - I know, I can feel it. I've got my mojo back! A couple of days ago I unknowingly retrieved my designs and other art books from my mother's house. I was only meant to go for 1 book but something told me to bring them all back with me. Just from looking through them I felt overwhelmed and inspired.
Fuck, it feels good! When I first held the pencil in my hand and tried to sketch something - I got halfway through, stopped, scribbled over it and threw it away. This also happened with the second drawing until I just thought to myself, I CAN'T do it - it's become so foreign to me, I just can't do it.
Because it's been so long, in that short time I had managed to convince myself that I wasn't able to express what was running through my mind. I had managed to make myself believe that I wasn't able to speak the language I had created when I was a child.
So, I left it for a while and returned to my sketchbook later that evening. I told myself to start small and then it all just flowed right out of me - I couldn't stop drawing. It felt like little sparks at the tip of my fingertips. My heart was racing and I had this same feeling I had years ago when I was actively sketching. Feelings of happiness and a sense of accomplishment
So now I draw day after day, fighting back what my thoughts told me wasn't possible. The way that fear creeps in can happen in such a sneaky way, especially when you still love what you do. Can you relate to this feeling of having your passion taken over by a fear-driven agenda?
Everything happens in its own time and my time is now.