I was brought up differently and had colouring books, where I had to paint or crayon between the lines. My success was judged upon the neatness. Junior school was the same, self expression was just not on the agenda and art at high school was a disaster.
When I eventually found out in later life that I could ‘do’ art, I became quite good at painting what I could see, whether it was a rolling landscape or a portrait. But given a blank sheet of paper with permission to draw or paint anything, I was totally at sea. I just could not do it. There was a block.
My wife and I were given the opportunity to experiment in someone’s studio. I laid a giant sheet of paper on the floor and got to work with vivid poster paints. I sloshed and splodged. I squirted, flirted and splashed and dabbed, until it began to have a strange effect upon me. I smiled and then laughed, I couldn’t stop because I was so enjoying myself. This was freedom indeed. I felt mischievous, but it didn’t matter.
Now, this isn’t just about painting. It’s about me being me, the person God has made me to be. I’m unique, there is no one else like me. I’m not a copy and my identity is not determined by meeting other people’s expectations. I’m not a clone and especially I am not a cardboard cutout Christian. A divine process began of God removing the blockages and freeing me up to be me. This was accelerated, albeit painfully, after I was diagnosed with ME/CFS. It’s going to be an interesting future!