Yesterday, my cab driver asked me what I do for fun. I said “um, I paint robots”. While I do other things, I realized that painting robots was the first thing that came to mind. I feel so much ownership over my creative practice now, and somewhat defensive of it. Painting and scheming up new things that need robots on them is something that I do for myself, that I give myself, and I don’t know what I would without it now. I feel like it’s pretty common to question yourself when you start dedicating time to something that isn’t making you money, or advancing your career, or bringing you whatever kind of recognition it is we’re taught to want. I feel silly telling people that I paint, as if I should tell them about my day job instead. I feel like I have to qualify “I paint” with “well, not for a job, like, I do it sometimes…I went to art school so…I have to do something creative or…” and crap like that. All of this is a roundabout way of saying that you don’t need to apologize for doing things you like, if you feel like it’s making you a happier or more content person, or it’s fufilling a desire, or it’s just relaxing. There doesn’t always have to be an end goal. If you don’t have a personal practice that makes you happy, you can make one up. Try stuff. Maybe you’ll really like making bread. Does that mean you need to open a bakery? Nope. You can just love making homemade bread in your pjs on Saturdays, and that’s it, but it’s enough.
Here’s a robot I painted last night. I can’t tell if he’s sleepy or pissed or what. I’m just happy that I used color and wasn’t scared of how it would look.