where art life meets love life, arguments cloud the picture.  

To describe myself I will always begin I firstly, “I am an artist.” Secondly I might say crazy, cartoonish, or demanding. And I know who I have to thank for nurturing that.

As a kid my parents always let me express myself. vibrantly. freely. even when it was against the norm. 

When I wanted all the ornaments on the tree to be made from recycled garbage by mom cut down a second tree just for me to decorate. 

When I wanted to wear only purple everyday for seven years, my parents never once tried to suggest another color. 

When I wore a full face of bright makeup in the 5th grade, my mom schooled my teacher who had the audacity to ask “Why does she look like that?” 

I was spoiled! It’s not that I was spoiled financially, or that I was a spoiled brat who was allowed to do things that harmed other kids in anyway…I was spoiled with understanding, and love, in the form of acceptance and praise despite being a very (albeit creative) odd kid. 

A serious problem arises in my present life though. I associate being creatively stiffled, with feeling unloved. 

My husband is an extremely strong willed person. On the upside, He knows exactly what he wants and he will fight tooth and nail to get it. He’s an only child syndrome type who could talk you out of your last candy bar, before you realized it wasn’t your idea!  

My whole life is art. I worship with art, volunteer doing art, sell art for work, teach art for work, and make art for fun. Everything I love about life and each new step,  is tied in with being creative or inventive somehow. 

Once I was in a serious relationship, Ibecame more troubled at any response to my ideas that wasn’t the encouraging chatter I grew up with. In my young brain perhaps, synapses had formed showing me that love was paved with acceptance and appreciation for my creations. That love of my ideas was an extension of love for me. 

everytime he dislikes my goals or creations,I feel like he isn’t showing me love. Everytime he pulls the reigns on my wild ideas and inventiveness because it’s “too out there” I feel stiffled and rejected. To his credit you can’t blame someone for honesty, and I didn’t feel hurt the day he once called one of my art pieces “a fart” however complete meltdowns ensued on the days I was told “no” to building ideas. 

Our first Christmas being engaged for example was full of terrible arguments. I was denied a Christmas tree, in part because of my outlandish ideas that couldn’t be tolerated next to his traditional ones; and money was tight. I stood passionately yelling, that, “I would rather die” in a Walmart isle, at being told I would have to have a red and green normal tree with standard lights, or NOTHING.  After being taken to the store by him unexpectedly with the express purpose of looking at decorations. 

This past year he caved and let me Have my odd tree (I compromised on a few things but it was far from traditional)  and in the end he actually liked it. Thank goodness, because Christmas is as much about creative expression for me, as everything else is!  A tree full of cupcakes next to glittery chartreusse dinosaurs, seemed the embodiment of my” bizarrely decorative childhood Christmases. 

Flash forward to present day. Now we are on the cusp of something new: attempting to buy our first home. As usual, all I’m excited about really  is the prospect of paintjng, muraling and artististically styling a new space. For once. The initial deal he presented of own free will, was that he would have a man cave all to himself and I could decide the rest. 

But now it’s already sizing up to be a potential battle ground in my head. I said a few ideas and he suddenly, offered ways to change it, saying brashly don’t worry “you WILL like my idea.” telling me I can have something, then yank it away haphazardously or even tugging it on your own direction feels like theft. 

theft of the creative spirit is a grave crime. 

It’s tough for me to be so inistant on my ideas. If I could be different I probably would…fact is, I’m in a perpetual state of needing to express and have those expressions be accepted or understood. People often overlook this hard aspect of being creative. Don’t assume its a walk in the park to be an artist . The truth is its wall after wall of difficulty.

Once I heard an art mentor from my past say “Half of me is married and the other half is an artist.” It resonated with me even when I was single. 

I look at every new venture with hopeful eyes, I see a chance to create. but when half of your life belongs to someone else you have to realize many of your ideas will be shut down, or not agreed upon. It feels like being stolen from. I hope someday I will be better at that. 

I’m difficult. I never said I wasn’t.  Happiness

 is essentially a choice. I want to chose a life full of focusing on the positive things, the ways Im lucky enough to express…instead of being filled with angst over the times when I feel stifled.

Attitude is everything. Here’s to hoping mine stays in check. Along with hoping that my husband’s mind stays as open to my ideas as he promised. 


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