artist's recovery.

While I was pondering for the last two years why I had abandoned my one great passion in life, I decided...hell, why not just take it up again? What is stopping me from just throwing myself in there? So I did.

I began, hesitantly. The strokes on the canvas seemed inhibited, it was like taking up a foreign language I hadn't understood...or never did. I tried not to think about it. I just painted. It felt a little awkward at first, but it came out, it happened. Technically, it wasn't my best piece. It was far from it.

I sat staring at it. For moments while i was painting I had been scrutinizing, perfecting, criticizing. As I stood and stared after I'd finished, i realized why i hadn't painted for so long, why part of me was ... well... inhibited. I had criticized it, I was cruel to myself. The judge was me and I was the harshest judge of all. I often felt frustrated at myself or something I couldn't name, and here I stood and it came to me like a flash of clear daylight. I made it hard for myself. It was because I was consistently judging myself, criticizing and making life difficult - but it was not others, it was only something i had built for myself. A cage for myself. When was I going to give myself a break? Even at this very moment, as I write this...I realize how hard I have been to myself over the years, how hard I have been on others when looking at their work, at their achievements.