Drawing

Every spare moment I have is spent drawing. It is an obsession. An itch that will not go away, no matter how vigorously I scratch it.

It is all a great mystery, this creative road I travel. Art has been the little sister to music and writing, all my life. Suddenly she yearns to be seen, known and expanded upon.

I have loved being with her.

Every moment, she takes me on a sacred journey, home again: and in such a different way to writing, which I’d previously identified as ‘my thing.’

I cannot call myself an artist, though. It is a block I’m unable to identify, and yet, it is a block that feels familiar.

Years ago, the voice within asked me to write poetry. I wouldn’t. I couldn’t because I didn’t know the rules. And because I didn’t know the rules, I would likely do it wrong.

‘Doing it wrong’ was not something I felt comfortable with. Until one day I wrote, with an open heart, something that looked and felt like poetry…no rules attached. No standard to meet.

I just wrote.

I wrote: me.

I now must take the same journey with my art. I must remove any worries of not doing it ‘the right way’ and simply do it my way.

I need to draw with my soul.

Goodnight.

xx. Brooke