Up until recently, if you would ask me about myself, I would say that I'm not artistic. I make things taste great, but I don't do pretty. I love art, but everything I try turns out abstract. Textile art fascinates me, but it just doesn't work out for me. Unless it's food, I'm just not creative or artistic. I like to write, but I'm not sure I have anything worthwhile or interesting to say. That creative gene missed me.
Growing up, I was surrounded by art. My grandparents were amateur artists, so our walls were covered with their art. (When my grandmother passed away this summer, everyone who had art by her posted photos on facebook. We created a virtual gallery in memory of her on my mother's wall). Both my mother and my grandmother loved textile art. My mother crochets and embroiders(our Christmas stockings were sequined masterpieces) while my grandmother quilted as well. They latch-hooked, crocheted, quilted, embroidered, cross-stitched and braided rugs. They were writers as well. My great-grandmother had a nanny for her children because she worked as a reporter. (This was during the early 1900s). But me, well, I don't do that. I'm a reader, not a writer, a wearer of art not a creator. I'm just not gifted that way.
But I am. Over the Christmas break, I made fingerless gloves, a cowl and a hat. I discovered that I can create, I just lacked the confidence. And it was like breaking out of a cage that I didn't know I was in. Suddenly I am free, when I didn't realize that I had been imprisoned.
I'm so proud of my hat. I even made flowers that have button centers. It's just so cute!
Shortly after this new revelation, I attended a conference. The last speaker mentioned that we are made in God's image. He is the Creator, therefore we are creative. This truth blew my mind, especially as I had just begun walking in it. I'm revelling in my newfound creativity, wondering what I will be creating next. I'm excited as I walk into this new adventure.
Linking up with the creative, inspiring group at Imperfect Prose:
