22h51
Sometimes I think back to my childhood and the creativity I followed blindly, the one that always knew where to lead me.
I like to believe that outside opinions do not affect me, but deep down I know that some wounds were carved by the need to please that my environment cultivated all these years. The end of 2025 is approaching and I realize that the goals I planned for myself did not all unfold the way I wanted. It is scary to feel like we are destined to fail simply because our list was not completed.
While meditating earlier, many revelations came to me, and this inner conflict I have carried for so long about what I deserve broke apart so easily in the calm of my awareness. This blockage around creation is simply my fear of being seen. Showing your authenticity in public requires a certain level of detachment from criticism. I firmly believe that the best artists in every field all share one thing, and it is their ability to create without barriers. This environment that supports free creativity allows the moment to be lived fully by the one who creates. It is normal for other factors to restrain the mind in different ways, simply because we are complex and thoughtful beings, but the freedom we offer ourselves is the key to full blooming.
The opinions of those around us build a shadow of doubt that follows us through life. What surrounds us shapes us. By letting those opinions guide the artistic direction of my projects, I felt pressure to please instead of creating from what lives inside me. As if what I spilled onto my canvases was only a reflection of what I imagined someone else wanted to see. It is hard to realize that the words I repeated to encourage myself were only my consciousness trying to convince me so others would think I was convinced of being happy and freely creative. This false enthusiasm only added more pressure on my shoulders and on how, why, and when I would paint my next piece. That is why I painted fewer than 20 paintings this year: performance stress was eating me alive.
The fear of being seen does not only come from outside energy. It also appears when we look at ourselves and explore the hidden corners of our own minds. Maybe authenticity feels frightening because in the end we do not really know who we are. All the layers of opinions gathered through the years have piled up and buried our rawest version far from the light. Even if what hides is only our true self, the unknown always evokes fear in anyone. Is the art of masking ourselves not the first form of abandonment we inflict on ourselves?
As difficult as it may seem, I accept that being myself in everything I do is a gift I offer myself, a kind of eternal love letter to my inner child, promising she will always be heard.
By being present, my fears lose their weight and my dreams unfold beneath my feet.