“It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.” – E. E. Cummings
Artist.
The plan was for me to take some time to carefully and intentionally explore my creative side–the one that reaches deeper and further back than the songwriting side. Me and my preacher-man made this decision about 6 weeks ago and I thought the creative season would start in January, but nope. I accidentally chased a few rabbits down a few holes and I didn’t mean to tumble into all of it so quickly–tumble into myself so quickly–but here I am and I’m drinking the potion and holding the key.
Artist.
And with all the tumblings into this reality right-now, every time I turn a corner there’s a new story that I have for Drew and he shakes his head and says “God is all over this”. And he’s not the only one saying that. And that part is just the weirdest part of all of it, because if you knew how poorly God and I have been getting along lately… If…
Artist.
So here I am. Down this hole. And everything looks different but familiar. I can’t explain it. Not yet. It’s one big batch of secrets–tucked in my back pocket where most people don’t know I’m carrying them around. And I mentally pull them out sometimes to get my bearings again, my bearings in this new world and new season. Or show them to someone who needs to see.
Artist.
And so I’m leaning into this new world, as The Messy Mandy would say. I’m living into this. I’m growing into this. And it involves paints and brushes. It involves words and colors. It involves writing and singing and teaching and making and meeting and maybe even selling.
But, more than any of that–more than all of that–it involves Who I Am Now merging with Who I Was Then and there’s nothing but an explosion of life and beauty surrounding me. And I’m so scared that this isn’t going to last, but it might. And my hands are full and I don’t know what to do with all of it. And the close people that are watching are starting to use the word “artist” around me and when they do my insides squeal like a little girl. I remember her–I know her–The Little Girl that once held 2Bs and Cray-Pas and paint brushes. And the thing that really shakes me is this–and this is the biggest secret and I think I’m going to tell you anyway–when I look at myself in the mirror, I see an artist. And, with all these years of self-wrestlings and askings and hopings and diminishings, I can’t help but wonder if that’s who I’ve always been.
Artist.
This is me. Cheering. Whooping. Hollering. Applauding. Dancing. You are an artist!
ha! Are we in a cheering contest?
this is so amazing. it’s like a soul-manifesto. i’ve been working on my own so i love seeing others and theirs. your voice rings out, mandy thompson. your art shines. and it is beautiful.
Soul Manifesto. I like that word. Like it a lot.
ah, cummings.
ah, mandy.
ah…
me…
i started a painting a few days ago. it’s kinda on pause right now b/c apparently i’m down a script brush… and i need that to do the weeping willows that i want to do. but even just doing the sky and the grass felt so good. SO GOOD. i just got lost in colors.
Weeping willows are my favorite. Have I ever told you that?
no– mine too!! i did a series of 3 paintings when i was in statesboro …. one of them (first in the series) features a weeping willow. it’s a night-time, whimsical type deal. i’m not sure the direction this one is going other than it’s set in darkness, too…. will have weeping willow(s)… and fantasy type colors going on.
I love your declare. That you speak in the midst of — overwhelming,unsure, SO SURE, hope-full, Yes-God-may-it-be-so, and most importantly, may-I-be-so — makes you so brave, which encourages me to be brave … thank you.
Wow. Thank you for sharing these words. I’m so glad they’ve encouraged you in this way.
awesome and beautiful.
Thank you, Jeff. Your words mean a lot.
SO excited for you. you are m hero. and yes… you can send me some of you art because i will hang it proudly in my home. i am NOT kidding.
I can’t be your hero. I’m way too messed up for that. But, still, maybe one day one of your walls will have something with my fingerprints on it. That would be crazy cool.
I do a great job of holding on to what I think I should be, a terrible job allowing myself to grow up into what God created me to be. Great post, great reminder.
That’s interesting, Scott. Here’s to hoping you can find ways to empty your hands of your own expectations in order to make room for what you’ve already been given.
I’m not at all surprised…
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so exactly where I am, too – actually, WHO I am, I should say. This is beautiful. Thanks for sharing.
Hi Mandy,
Found my way here from Jeff Goin Twitter feed. This post is absolutely beautiful.
It certainly does take courage to grow up and become who you really are. I’m doing the same thing with my writing.
Keep making art.
-Grayson
aparchedsoul.com
Grayson, thanks so much for wandering over.
And thanks for the encouragement! Happy writing to you.
the Who I Am and Who I Was merging – totally going through this! Artist. Yes, this.