The Bigger PictureRecently, I shared in this column my journey to recover my own ability to create visual art as part of a project to create a painting for the Children in Need Telethon.
Now, two weeks later, the painting is done! I can't believe it! And, the change I have experienced as a person is noticeable.
Previously, I wrote about how my early experiences of fear inhibited me, not only from feeling a freedom to express what I saw, but of any desire to see my own expressions externally on a page. The leap that was required for me to paint then, more than anything, was a letting go of my own internal judgments.
The most difficult consequence of being "judged" by others happens when we try to avert that judgment by judging ourselves first. By doing so, we limit our own behaviour and narrow our own minds. It dampens our own ability to create.
Making the decision to paint, then, has demanded that I actively break down rigidities and barriers within myself.
I have had to choose to nurture a compassion - indeed joy - towards myself for how I see things and what I want to do with colours, impressions and shapes. This must be why so many people for so long report that creating art is therapeutic. It embodies a choice to love yourself.
The more I painted, the more I relaxed and let go with my heart. In response, my colours and brush strokes got stronger, and my enjoyment of the exercise grew.
Since I finished the painting, I've had an excitement and "giddiness" that just hasn't left me. The self-compassion has grown and gained momentum in so many different areas of what I do.
Creating art takes risk, particularly when you don't know what you're doing with the medium (watercolours, oils, etc.) This is where this compassion becomes most important - to keep practising even if what you create outside yourself isn't exactly what you saw in your mind's eye, and allowing yourself to build confidence with new experiences.
As part of this telethon project, three complete novices - world champion and world record-breaking runner Eamonn Coghlan, model and TV presenter Glenda Gilson, and myself - were teamed with successful artists to learn to draw and paint, and create a piece of art to be auctioned.
To be honest, it was a lot to ask of us and I did think the only buyers for these paintings would genuinely be purchasing out of "charity".
However, our project has overwhelmingly shown me that this is indeed true: there is an artist in each of us, even if you have never explored it before or are beginning with a complete block, as I was.
I am so proud of what we have accomplished, and would be delighted to have any one of them hanging in my living room to look at each day. (Or in a public area should a business choose to bid on one!)
Eamonn's painting of a tree-lined avenue is beautifully drawn and painted. I love the tall lines of the trees, the contrast of the shadows falling across the road, and the way the whole picture draws your eye across it and off-centre.
Glenda's painting of a castle gateway very subtly creates the textures and feel of the stone it is made from. It is also beautifully drawn and I love the contrast in it that makes me feel I can walk straight through the gate in that picture.
Finally, my painting of a river travelling towards a bridge is a true expression of my spirit - colourful, "innocent," and vibrant. I'm told there's an energy and passion in it that clearly reflects me.
I also want to thank, on behalf of us all, the artists who mentored us: Shane Sutton (with Eamonn), Jim Fitzpatrick (with Glenda) and Philip French (with me). If there is any internal criticism and competition that operates among artists, I couldn't see any evidence of it here.
These three men were so generous and supportive. From the finished work, it's obvious that we each benefited greatly from them. While we worked exclusively in pairs, I benefited from the tips and encouragement of each of them.
Still, I need to particularly thank Philip for his sincerity and warmth to draw me out when I was finding the task so difficult.
For me, unleashing my art included going to the one place where I knew I could create something: my writing. I realised that I needed to understand my scene through words first.
It was as though, just as poetry is a distilled version of prose, creating an image (for me) became a distilled version of poetry.
Once I did that, no further thinking was needed. Only an emotion was left.
The greatest lesson I have learnt for myself while painting was that I only have to make things that appeal to my own heart. The closer I get to the humanity within me, the more it is guaranteed that it will appeal to others.
These paintings will be auctioned as part of the telethon on the Friday.
You can see images of them on www.shalinisinha.com.