Words and themes are coming at me, like a perfect storm that can’t be ignored. Even yesterday morning, both the devotional study I’m doing and the book I’m reading, The War of Art used the words, “delay gratification” with both explaining the words practically the same.
Last year I documented my dreams thinking that in doing so, it would make things magically happen. What I forgot was that work was involved. True, there is something powerful in writing things down, but that’s just the start. Starting is the easy part. It’s the finishing that so many of us fail at. Sometimes I feel like an expert at that part.
Billy Sunday said it best, “More men fail through lack of purpose than lack of talent.”
Most of my life I've wanted to create. From the time I was in third grade I wanted to be a writer. In the years of my angst, I aspired to be a poet. In my thirties, my creative aspirations were fulfilled by crafting. In the past five years, photography has become my outlet. Yet, still the desire to write has never escaped my dreams.
After I was diagnosed with cancer, I read numerous accounts of woman who said that a byproduct of their cancer was a flood of creativity. For the first several years, I felt cheated because nothing came. Last year I felt the door was opening. My photography was coming together. I was finally writing again, albeit nothing of major importance, but I knew it was coming.
And just like that it got derailed. My setback just didn’t affect my health, it affected my creativity. Now that I’m doing better, I want to do more than dream. I need to do more than dream.
I need to work at art, even if it’s just for me. Time to get to it.
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