My mom recently found an old artwork project I’d created decades ago.
I can’t remember if I was in high school or junior high when I made it…I completely blocked out the time…but I DO remember creating it.
It was an egg sculpture made of sugar, with frosting on the outside.
Inside was a little home-like space, with with flowers made of frosting. It looked somewhat like an alien spaceship.
All these years, my mom had kept the piece of art in one of her drawers, inside a plastic bag.
The sculpture was so old, the sugar was starting to deteriorate and turn brown.
She showed it to me and asked if I wanted to keep it. My instant reaction was “Hell no.”
Looking at the sculpture brought back a flood of memories — namely, bullies who either destroyed my creations in school, or guilt-tripped me about being so artistic in some way. Or they flat out stole my artwork.
I remember many instances where my artwork won prizes in school, and someone would literally steal it. So I had no evidence I’d ever created it.
The egg sculpture was like a little time machine, instantly transporting me back to a past reality.
It felt bizarre looking at it…as if I was standing face-to-face with my younger self.
I decided to “keep” the egg sculpture in digital form…but release the physical thing itself. I took a few pictures from different angles.
Then we tossed the thing in the garbage.
It got me thinking and remembering how artistic I really am.
In my adult life I haven’t allowed myself to fully express my artistic nature very much.
It comes out in my song-writing and production, and my selection of glittery notebooks that I buy for my office. I thought, “Why don’t I bring out MORE of my artistic side?”
Lately, my artistic side has been showing up via my newly formed ritual of getting my nails done — something I resisted doing for years, thinking it to be too frivolous. Now I’m hooked on getting my nails done every few weeks!
The fact is, every one of us has a secret form of art that our soul is dying to express.
Some people may be more “artistic” than others — but EVERYBODY has something they’re yearning to create in the world.
Maybe it’s the art of getting shit done in an efficient manner…
Or the art of marketing a stellar product in a way no one else does…
Or maybe it’s inventing a worldwide recycling program for all the plastic toys in the world that otherwise end up in landfills.
Or perhaps it’s the art of simply being fully present with the people who matter most.
Everyone has an art they’re secretly (or not so secretly) desiring to bring into the world.
Acting on that desire is how humanity progresses forward.
Suppressing that desire is how humanity stays stuck and unhappy.
Recently I was thinking about how our food supply is anything BUT a work of art. It’s a dismal mess, one that’s slowly being cleaned up one organic farm at a time…and lifted up one conscientious company at a time.
Our food supply is gradually becoming more beautiful. A few companies are really pouring their love and passion into the food products they make. (See HNINA organic gourmet chocolates as an example of this. I’m hooked on their chocolates!)
Beautiful, artfully created products that are made with love — whether it’s organic food, cleaning supplies, natural medicine, or something else — will soon take over the world.
I have no doubt about this.
The ugliness of genetically modified, Franken-fucked-up, chemical-laden CRAP will disappear in time. (Just think of all the bored, miserable people who work in jobs they hate, for companies they loathe, to make this stuff.)
I’m looking forward to the day when someone figures out how to make healthy organic cheeseburgers, fries, and milkshakes that taste just as sinfully delicious as the bad stuff.
If we can imagine something, then we have the power to create it.
…And the first step is to simply allow ourselves to EXPRESS fully that which wants to be expressed. No shame or guilt in doing so.
That’s why I’m a big fan of artfully expressive marketing…just expressing the shit out of your message. Nothing held back. No “taming” your language, or your ideas, in fear of what others might think.