Seven years ago, during an intensive expressive writing session, my mentor and coach asked me to go back further in time, and as I drifted back, I came upon something that stopped me for quite some time.

The Past

It was a memory of my teenage years, and in the vision I saw my first sketch, which I had meticulously made, looking at the 7-Up bottle and its cartoon figure(Fido Dido)

Move backwards, I now saw my paint book, colours, mostly crayons, colour pencils and my art book

Back to Present

I stumbled upon a video of Jay and his use of acrylic colours. The colours in themselves filled me with happiness, and without a second thought, I ordered all the paint supplies and canvas from Amazon.

I was introduced to acrylic colours for the first time, and I was bewitched that something like this exists!

Now started a hasty attempt to copy how Jay made beautiful pictures, and, on a whim and in the same caprice, I also purchased an Udemy course to learn more about art.

Nothing helped, though!

I could not even draw a line, let alone manage the shades and the colour palette, which was a mess.

The Invisible power that held me back

I was heartbroken when I made several attempts to paint a window, a wall, a lamp post, and flowers in natural landscapes . From small objects to difficult ones, nothing worked, at least I thought so.

The Udemy course was too technical, the acrylic colours were too attractive, and my painting results were a disaster!

Every time I sit with the colours, I am enmeshed in a state of mind that seems to be in an unexplained hurry, a haste to complete it, a need to have it perfect, and an obedience to an invisible power that keeps criticising me, watching over me when I struggle.

I was fixated on outcomes and was hell-bent to please the invisible critic breathing heavily on me for every wrong stroke of the brush

With my back aching and shoulders holding a lot of tension, I realised that instead of cultivating a hobby for leisure, I had created a stress activity that was draining me.

I could no longer take it, and then

Accepting my fate, I neatly stacked all my paint supplies and work in a wardrobe locked for the next 5 years, with a promise that, post next Ramadan, I would paint. Then another Ramadan passed; then another; then five Ramadans passed by, but I did not return to paint.

Then one fine evening, buried deep in my meditation, as I reflect upon things I avoid, my art supplies came to mind, knocking from the closed door behind, reminding me that we are waiting for what’s wrong with you.

I sat with this Question- Yeah, what’s wrong with me?

What do I want?

In my answer, I found my nine-year-old self seeking a framework and an invisible obedience that I grew up with, which often sought external validation, without which it wouldn’t move an inch!

I decided to take the risk by executing the seeking validation part, and as soon as I did that, creating the much-needed space for my mind, I found another memory cropping along with an idea to sketch, if not paint.

I finally gave myself permission to move ahead.

The Sketch Success

I began my sketch journey with a regular pencil, without any attachment to the outcome.

This was just for my eyes and for myself

I sketched for hours and enjoyed every bit of it. This way, I filled three fat sketchbooks and then purchased the fourth one, this time with the idea of combining it with anecdotes and stories from my childhood, especially the summers at grandma’s house, which are among my most cherished memories.

This was a supper success!

Here, have a look: except for the Baobab tree, which looks more like a Mushroom, every sketch is an expression of my freedom with an image, combined with my thoughts on paper.

How do I know it was a super duper success?

Because now I have given myself permission to just be who I am and enjoy an activity without judging myself or fixating on outcomes.

I thoroughly enjoy my time spent in a week and return to it regularly.

On my canvas and with the acrylic colours, they are still awaiting an hour when I meet them without judgment and with my authenticity, with the intention of losing myself in the creativity rather than being enmeshed in my judgmental mind, giving myself permission to play with colours and just be till then. I am waiting.

I’m waiting.

warmly,

Mehnaz Amjad