It’s a title I long to earn. Something to be known by. Something to live by.
For the longest time I thought you had to be somebody – nay, someone (important) had to think you were somebody – to be considered an artist.
That’s just not true.
For years, I’ve watched creative women all over the world expressing themselves creatively in many different mediums. Whether it be through blogs or photos, actual paint or the way they organized a shelf – their expressions managed to find its way into my heart. And I found myself wishing I had that… something. Some might not be professional artists by the traditional definition but make no mistake: they are artists.
The stories told aren’t always happy but I’m captivated by how these women live fully. Their innards are stretched to capacity and I am certain the room fills up with all sorts of good energy as soon as they cross the threshold.
This is what I want for myself. I want to live a creatively full life. I want to find the girl who use to laugh out loud and from the very pit of her stomach. The girl with a light heart and a spring in her step. The girl who’s been hiding behind piles of responsibility and how things should be done.
I want to be fully alive. Stretching out to my limits. So I can fill the space with all sorts of good energy.
Do you live fully?