Unfurling the Scroll

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There are a hundred different ways to apply a brush stroke to a canvas. Tentatively, harshly, boldly, carelessly, hurriedly, unhurriedly. The list is long. It may well not have an end. But there is one thing for certain, whatever happens between me and that brush is private. It’s like a lover I choose to lock myself away in a room with. Everything else just falls away and only the canvas, paint, brush and I exist. Reality cannot touch us here. It is not wanted. All I want and need is to lose and find myself in the process. 

There is an accessing of a part of me that is usually in slumber when I am not creating – like drifting off to a place where the shackles fall off and I am free to portray the universe inside my head; to have it in my hand and wonder at it, to set if free like a bird. 

To create is to be emancipated, to be opened up like an antiquated scroll that was formerly residing in some darkened cave. My works are a type of progeny that I grew inside the womb of my imagination. Like a pregnant mother, I don’t have much concept of when they came into being. I suspect the seeds grow there slowly, imperceptibly, until they are big enough to be recognised by my consciousness. Like that weed in your garden that you only notice once it has flowered. 

One might say that I am lucky to be able to write and create art. I believe so. Two forms of self expression are a benediction when you’ve a head so full of thoughts. But there is a down side to that. It is a recognised and scientifically proven fact that there is a clear relationship between being a creative and having an increased risk of suffering from issues such as insomnia, bipolar disorder, low mood and depression. There is some debate as to whether these afflictions are a causal factor in creativity or resultant. Regardless, this is a shadow side that I myself have experienced to some degree, as well as many of my artistic acquaintances.

Writer’s block is a difficult thing to tolerate for instance, and it has caused me some amount of distress in recent years. And of course being a reflective person is necessary where writing and art are concerned. Which can be difficult to turn off. According to academics in the field of mental health, (Topper, Emmelkamp, Watkins and Ehring,) excessive rumination is linked to anxiety and poor mental health.

However, without my writing and art, I would have no outlet for my thoughts and emotions. It would be like eating and drinking but not being able to digest. So to me, my creative side is considered a boon. One that I would not want to be without. It’s who I am. It’s exciting.

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