This is for creative therapy - catalyst twenty-two - what's your biggest accomplishment?

I went through a long thought process for this week’s catalyst. I even created several pieces of art. Like several others, I was going to make it about my son, but, like Becky already mentioned, I don’t think of him as my accomplishment. He is so amazing and special all by himself. I was then going to make it about coming to the United States. Moving here was the beginning of a series of achievements for me and I consider it to be the achievement that allowed all others. But the more I thought the more I knew that wasn’t the right one either. So I finally opened my computer and let my thoughts come together as they always seem to when I’m typing. I think the journaling says the rest. More thoughts on the art itself in the technique section below.

Journaling Reads: I have accomplished a lot in my life. I got in to the college of my dreams. At seventeen, I moved from Turkey to the United States. I graduated from college in four years with an undergraduate and a masters degree. I worked at a very selective Wall street firm and I got to become a Vice President pretty quickly. I got accepted to a very selective Nonprofit program. I married the man of my dreams. I quit everything and started all over again in California. I started my own photography business. I had an amazing baby who is now an amazing boy. I became an American citizen. I got a job with Google and I’ve been consistently doing well at my job. Just to list a few.

These were all goals I’d set for myself at some point or another. I am good at achieving goals. I always have been. I work hard. I put my mind to it and I get it. And then I quickly forget all about it and set the next goal. the next challenge, the next mountain to climb. While I am very proud of all my achievements and I do take many of them for granted now. I look back upon them and think they were easy. They must have been. I was able to accomplish them, wasn’t I?

Then I look at my achievements and they are all things I do. I am good at work. I work hard. But I am not so good at creative. My very organized, very structured mind doesn’t do so well with the unstructured, big picture oriented art world. I’ve always craved being more artistic. I’ve always wished I had that magical gene that made you creative. The one that meant I could draw. I could see things and imagine things the way other creative people did.

Alas, it appears I wasn’t waiting in that line when they were handing out the genes.

So when I look back upon my life, especially the one I am leading now, I am most proud of this place. Creative therapy. It’s something I created to tell myself that I can be creative too. That creativity is not always about drawing perfectly. It’s not about being the best designer. The most talented artist.

I can create art too. I can even use it to grow. To learn. To reflect. To dream.

This was my way of making myself create every week. It is my way of not letting myself give up (like I did for writing). Letting the conversations in my head go. Allowing myself to experiment. Giving myself a space to create. Recurringly. Holding myself responsible. Putting myself out there.

Sharing my art scares me. I never think I am good enough. I always think people will laugh at me. People will say “who does she think she is to be displaying her art?” It scares me more than any of my work commitments ever did. It scares me more than having a baby did. It’s too raw. It comes from the place of ultimate uncertainty and it’s exposing something deep down that I normally prefer to leave in the dark.

So I am most proud of creative therapy. Proud that I have the guts to do this week after week. That I have kept this commitment to myself. That I have created this space for me and for others. I am proud that it exists.

I am proud that I wasn’t too scared to make it happen. I am still scared. Every week.

But I am proud.

Technique Highlight:
I meant for this piece to feel raw. I used a sheet of old paper, put gesso all over it and stamped it with pink paint. Pink for color of skin. Since the journaling was really really long and personal and about being scared, I made it a tiny font and printed it on a sheet of music that I had also gessoed over. I stamped “ME” on the journaled paper to emphasize the theme of “for me.” I added a few pink pieces to make sure the little piece of paper didn’t get lost on top of the big one of the same color. I put some butterflies to symbolize freedom and a photo of me laughing for happiness. I stamped my title and sprayed some water over it to give the sense of tears. It’s not nearly as beautiful as I wish it were and it didn’t even come close to what I had in my head but none the less, this is what came out.