May 30, 2006
Lost and Found
So, I am blogging my life down trying to make sense of my hectic, scatter-brained days. Life with three sweet little munchkins (mmm, wish I had some of those right now), is all consuming. Just when you think you have scored a few moments to yourself, pow! Someone calls for you or gets hurt or just needs you to help them find something. But alas, they are little people with a new view of the world and a keen sense for when you've found down time that they can "be a part of."
But really I need to mention a great awakening that occured in my heart only a few years past. See, ever since I was a child, I've loved art. Drawing, painting, building, creating, whatever. If it involved getting my hands into something and turning it into something else, I loved it. But I would never have labeled myself an "artist." That term, in my mind, was reserved for the masters like Leonardo, Monet, Degas, or Cassatt. It was never a label that I could use to describe me and yet it is at the very soul of who I am.
My first real introduction to calling myself an artist was when I went on an international trip and my friend, a very talented singer/songwriter/drawer traveling with me, wrote on her international form that her occupation was as an artist. I was astonished to know that she accepted that truth and made it her label. Well, I of course thought "why not?!" I mean that is what I want to be known for too. Not that being known as a great homemaker is bad, but it left a bitter taste in my mouth because it was a label I felt I had no other choice but to accept as all I was currently doing with my life. So, with apprehension and excitement mixed, I wrote it as my occupation as well. It left me feeling gleeful and mischevious. I felt like I had just stepped with barefeet onto fresh green grass, the really soft kind that is cool and comforting the moment it tickles your skin; but that it was somehow forbidden and I was doing it anyway. Once I realized that it was okay to be so free with the term I tried to embrace it even deeper.
The neat thing is that I went to coffee with a sweet friend the other night and she matter-of-factly referred to me as an artist; saying that I would really appreciate the art her father does. It made my day! I mean, me an artist? The fact that other people would think of me in that way when I have done so little to show my talents, just sends my mouth gaping open in shock. I can only hope that I can live up to the true sense of the word and be a creator of things that were not until I made them.
Posted by mindy on 09:28 PM | Comments (0)
Curses
For some time now, I have been trying to figure out how to make time to create without some sort of guilt hanging over my head. I have this insatiable thirst to be of some kind of worth in the artist community. There is an urge that is buried deep within me to be appreciated for my talents and inspired to become greater at what I do.
But guilt over rides all ideas of grander. I don't feel guilty about creating but about what I can't be doing if I take time to create. I feel like family-life will loose too much of me if I create and I follow that with feelings that that piece of me is something that can't, or shouldn't, be sacrificed. And yet they don't get the best of me either because I am so frustrated that no one sees how much this energy gets pent up and unreleased.
Guilt, as I was told by my mother and sister, is something you birth after each child and you must bare it along with the journey. This is an unfair curse as I see it. Why should I feel guilty to fill my need as an artist, taking time to create things that flow from my heart? And yet I feel overwhelmed with guilt if I even consider making time for this outlet to create. Do other mothers struggle with guilt as I do? It's exactly like that saying "Damned if you do, damned if you don't." No matter what I do, I feel guilty. Having so much responsibility to other people is heart wrenching. Being burdened with this feeling that others needs are completely more important than my own, the tears well up. And I think of how much I want to create and be an inspiration to others. Yet I make them (these tears and longings) subside knowing "my time will come" and that this long and dry time in my life is "just a season." The hour is late, and some would be delighted in their pride to say "well, you've made your choices. Suck up the pain and move on." But the reality is this: creating is more than just a whimsical moment, it is the heart and soul of those whom it possesses. It grabs their very being, strangling them from air until they let it break forth. And then, and only then do they get to breathe...
Posted by mindy on 12:19 AM | Comments (0)
May 26, 2006
Pieces of Me
I feel rather strange starting off into this realm of type and response. A world of words and images so disconnected from reality, yet so much a part of it as well. But that is life isn't it? So many things make up our reality. And so many parts of it are unseen in 3D.
Welcome to a window into my world. The small and relatively calm world of Mindy Kempista. Who knows what will become of these writings. The things I write in this "journal" will vary I am sure as I realize how split I am as a person. There seem to be so many things I want to become. Mostly, I want to become peaceful. I hope that by writing here I will have an outlet for creative energy that seems pent up after having three children and doing what I can to get through the day. Finding time, or making time, for my creative energies to flow seems like this unrealistic goal that I hunger for everyday, wondering if I will ever feel fulfilled in my wanting to create something tangible and satisfying. I long to feel that satisfaction that a child feels when they finish creating something and they show it to someone important in their life while exuberantly saying "I made this!" I have felt that satifaction many times, but not recently. It seems that my reaction to many things in life is rather flat, lacking in effervescent ferver. I have a need as an artist to feel accomplished and proud of what I have become. So maybe in these writings I will find some peace as I write from the stored up artistic juices in my soul.
And to anyone who's found this piece of me, these "minmusings" as I have named them, thanks for dropping by... Godere di buona salute!
Posted by mindy on 10:50 PM | Comments (0)