It’s been a while since I posted here and for a while I actually contemplated leaving this hobby for good. Thankfully I’ve decided to return and write again because let’s be honest, this is my therapy. Much has happened in the real world since my last post, and I’ll get into that later in another post, but today I want to discuss my other therapeutic avenue, painting.
When I was in high school, Art was my best subject. Phys. Ed. was my favourite, but Art was my bread and butter. I really enjoyed it, and loved working on all the different projects we were assigned. Looking back, that was a time in my life when my parents were finalizing their divorce and maybe art was a way for me to escape that drama and create my own world.
Recently I moved out on my own and really alone for the first time. Previously I moved in with my wife straight from home with my dad. Now, it’s just me and my thoughts. Along with my thoughts in my new place, I’m constantly seeing blank white walls. That alone could drive a man insane; forget about a man halfway there already. I went out to buy some paintings for the walls to break up the monotony of it all. Well, it wasn’t long before I realized I couldn’t afford sanity. The art I wanted was going to cost me an arm and a leg. At a time when I was learning to budget for myself and trying to pay child support and rent and everything else that responsible adults do these days. I decided in lieu of buying art for my walls, I would just make it myself.
It didn’t take more than a 20 minute trip to the Dollar Store to get the supplies I would need to create. Now I could take advantage of the deafening silence of my new bachelor pad, grab some beers, blast some music and just get lost. Literally from the moment I picked up my paintbrush, I was transformed back to my high school self. All the feelings I had while creating art as a 17 year old, were back again in my 34 year old body
After posting some picture of my progress online, I was getting instant feedback. Encouragement from people I never expected. I was starting to get some steam back in my engine. What started out as a means to fill my bank walls, became a confidence building and therapeutic breakthrough.
Since I started a few months ago, I’ve created a few pieces I am proud to hang on my wall and none of them cost more than $10 in supplies. It has help me rediscover myself and has allowed me to also return to writing. It really amazes me how things work themselves out as if that was the plan all along.
Dad Under Fire