Painting My Life

I paint my life now the same way I paint a canvas.  I have an idea where I’m going with my paint and I feel excited about starting.  And then…anything can happen…usually not according to plan.  It’s nice to have a plan, especially since I’ve been such a planner in this lifetime.  But I know now that’s so not how I’m to paint my life.   In following my passion, there are so many avenues and tools, that the possibilities for myself are endless.  Some of the paths I take seem to hit a wall or I fall with a thud.  Like the painting I created of a bird flying just above the water.  The shadow I painted wasn’t right and instead it looked like I painted a bird pooping mid-flight.  After looking at it for months perched on a shelf in my closet, and still seeing poop, I decided to paint over it.  This time I used different tools, new colors and painted an entirely different scene.  I can’t remember what the replacement was or I’d include a photo of the painting here. 

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Of course, it’s easier to start over on canvas than in life.  When something I’m trying doesn’t work, along the lines of following my passion, I tend to get stuck.  I know my life won’t paint itself so I take another step.  I balance letting go, allowing for what appears, and taking more steps to see what works best.  There are layers upon layers of paint covering many attempted paths because of my process.  Eventually, something clicks and my inspiration gives birth to more inspiration and the process continues.  As I wrote in an early post about painting and writing  I’m learning to let go of getting “it” right.  There’s no arriving at the perfect final product.  Evidently that is so not how this life thing works and I’m glad for it.  I pull out another tube of paint and try again.