And good riddance to bad luck! #AC/DC
There’s a cupboard in my room that I very rarely open.
It’s full of all the sketchbooks that I filled when at university, final projects, art materials and fancy drawing paper. Just looking at it made me feel a little bit nervous. Like something evil was going to pop out of it.
With all these changes I’ve been making in order to get back into drawing, I felt that it was going to be necessary to open the doors and pull out all those reminders of how I’m not an artist like I thought I would be.
And so I did. I flipped through all my old sketchbooks and only kept the ones that I really liked and felt would inspire me, as well as the ones that were barely used so I could rip out the old doodles and maybe start getting back into sketching. Out of 20 sketchbooks I kept 3.
I asked around to see if anyone wanted the almost unused art materials that I know I won’t use: oils, acrylics, pastels, huge paintbrushes and old pots of ink. It took me 2 hours to find a home for everything.
The day after, I loaded my car with everything I was going to throw away and drove to the big bins up the road.
The more sketchbooks I threw in the bin, the more anxious I felt. Instead of relieved, I felt the way you feel when you’re exercising and you know you only have to hold on for another 15 seconds to finish the set. Do it, do it, keep going, just a bit longer!
When I threw the last one away I didn’t feel I’d been freed from the shackles of my past. I felt like I was going to cry.
Now I realise that I was mourning. Mourning for what could have been. For all those dreams and expectations that were left disappointed in the past.
I needed a minute to say goodbye to the hope that I was still clinging onto, even now, 6 years later. I’ll never be the artist I was. I don’t want to be the artist I was.
I want a fresh start.
And now I feel capable of doing just that.
And good riddance!
Here’s a sketch.