I am twenty-seven years old. Is that old or is that young? These days I’m starting to feel the push of time more than ever. I’m closer to thirty than I ever have been, meaning closer to marriage, closer to starting a family, closer to facing the reality of becoming an independently-functioning adult. I know that we all begin talking about this time crunch as early as twenty-four, but I’m legit in the late 20s. This is serious now.

I find it difficult to describe my dilemmas without becoming totally tired of myself. I’ve been talking and talking about “what I want for myself” and “why I can’t make this happen” and “what I need to do to commit to this”. And honestly, I just don’t know the answer. I’m beginning to wonder if anyone does. I thought that by this age, everyone I knew would be happy and fulfilled with their lives. A few of them are. Most of them aren’t. The age range of my friends is pretty wide, from 23 to late 30s, and they all say similar things. Things that I say too:

– I just don’t know what I want with my life.
– It’s difficult to imagine being able to do this and have a family.
– ____ would make me so happy.
– I don’t know how to get to where I want to be.

I wish I had an answer for you. An answer for any of it, really. My solution in the meantime has been to try to forget that voice inside, make it be quiet, while you continue to work hard and move forward. Always easier said than done, but better to have tried for your entire life than to have given up and wasted your time only wishing for it.

That’s what I’m trying to do. I’m trying to dissolve this idea that there will be a crucial turning point or a moment where “it’s all happening”. That doesn’t exist. That’s like wishing for love at first sight. It’s never going to happen that way for me. The things I pine for, the picture of a life I daydream about, will never materialize in an instant. It will be this. All of this, slowly, one seed at a time to grow an abundant forest. You know, like a metaphorical forest of sorts. Strong, thriving, and full of life. I just have to be patient. #storyofmylife

If you’ve read this far down then I think you get my gist and you’re probably relating to me hardcore. Everyone’s lot in life is difficult and always transitional. It can feel miraculous for a few precious moments, but most of the time… it’s tiresome work and endless wondering about when it’ll all come together. All I can say is, hang in there. I’m hanging right there with you. I’m taking it one painting at a time, one stroke at a time.

I think that when I first began this blog, I had planned for it to be a motivating tool to get back into making art. On some days, it really was. As time went on (it’s approaching two years old!) it became clearer to me that this space is more of a foray into my love for photography and writing – I guess just journaling in general. And yes, that does motivate art because life is what sustains inspiration and creation. After weeks and weeks of fruitless thought, I’ve finally come to the simplest solution to my creative problems. And it might sound dumb and so easy, but it’s truly a revelation to me today.

I need to make something, any little thing,
any stroke or small movement, every single day of my life. 

I’m holding myself to this promise and documenting it via instagram. Social media is an omnipresent and daily ritual and that’s the way I need my art practice to be. So I’ve made a vow to post a visual update on a piece every single day of my life. It shouldn’t take more than 15 minutes out of my day to do this. And I know it’ll make all the difference. Wish me luck!