On 47 going on 12
Disclaimer: Reading this may inspire you to go out and invest in creative tools and supplies. I cannot be held responsible for the outcome of this inspired shopping trip.
Yes, I’m an adult now, but in my mind, I’m like that kid in the art store, gleefully picking up every new set of glitter pens like I just won the lottery.
It’s never EVER too late to pick up a paintbrush or your creative interest of choice and just PLAY!
If you would have asked 40 year old me what life would look like in ten years, I probably would have told you that I'd be a mid-career HR exec with a wicked pair of tortoise shell reading glasses, likely training for a triathlon.
And that likely WOULD have been me if it weren't for the "incident" that pivoted my life into artistic chaos. But more of THAT story here.
Now creating art is not only how I spend my standing time, it's also my career. And embracing play is a big part of my artistic process. So the whole "47 going on 12 thing" is not just about fun, it's necessary so that I fulfill my goal of creating art that inspires joy, nostalgia and laughter.
Was I an artistic child? Nope!
People are often surprised that painting and drawing were not activities I gravitated towards when I was young. While growing up, at home, there really wasn't much of anything to play with that could potentially stain my dress or cause a mess. However, I have always been a performer and a story teller and never shied away from being on a stage or public speaking. Especially if it was an opportunity to spread joy, laughter and positivity.
As a child, I also enjoyed school (weird, right?) because I've always had a furious appetite for learning and growth. So when my former colleagues gifted me a basket full of art supplies after my accident, it not only became a means of expressing myself after my brain injury.... It also became a way to re-embrace the joys of learning.
SO WHAT DOES PLAY LOOK LIKE AT AGE 47?
When you’re a kid, your art is all about scribbling on the walls or drawing your pet hamster with 18 legs because you didn’t know how many it was supposed to have. My post brain injury adulthood is now defined by a series of moments where I want to draw pictures of unicorns eating pizza. And then I do just that.
It’s liberating finding ways to break out of the “adult” mindset—turning my brain back to that carefree place where I didn't care about failing; I just cared about "doing". And that's really the crux of how I approach "play" now.
I go to the beach and I stack rocks in an imperfect game of JENGA. It's not about creating a perfect column of rocks that will stand the test of time. It's about the adventure of finding that perfect rock puzzle piece that will keep the tower standing OR cheering wildly and yelling "TIMBER" when it falls.
I go on long bike rides on county roads. During these rides, I ALWAYS stop by multiple roadside farms to talk to animals. These "conversations" often make my imagination run wild. So I sit on the side of the road, with my sketchbook, and I write a strange, funny, human-like story about some adventure that a chatty cow had.
I sit in a coffee shop with a donut. I sketch the donut. Then I sketch the person who's sitting beside me ALSO eating a donut. And I hand the sketch to them as a gift, often hoping they'll buy me a second donuts ;)
LEARNING, LAUGHTER AND PLAY
The three things that pushed me forward as a child, are the same three things that fuel my artistic work. It’s the creativity of youth, with the added bonus of knowing how to use a credit card to pay for my supplies without crying when the bill arrives.
The thing is, when you're 47, you’ve lived long enough to have collected stories and life experiences to share. BUT, when you embrace becoming 12 again, you recognize that there are parts of you from your youth that you've been neglecting for years. A love of learning, a love of creation that doesn't align with your adult view of perfection, and a fearless love of play and "doing" without the fear of failure.
And honestly? With this new mindset, I'm pretty sure I don't know how to fail anymore. Because I always keep in mind that every messy piece is just a stepping stone to more laughter, growth, and great art.