I hate getting dirty. I hate it when my hair is messy. I hate drawing outside the lines. Always have.
Which is the correct way to go anyway, right? The right thing to do. Most of the time. That’s what life is expecting from you. What your boss wants to see. Stick to the rules. Look neat and pretty and presentable. Don’t draw outside the lines.
When I was in elementary school, there was this one task in art class. We were supposed to draw a colorful face, but with the left and the right hand simultaneously, as in „one crayon in the left hand, one in the right and then drawing with both hands at the same time, one hand mirroring the brush strokes of the other.
Actually I don’t remember if we were using crayons or brushes and watercolors or something else. What I do remember though is what a hard time this assignment gave me. I loved drawing and painting and stuff, and for my age, I guess I was good at it. At least that’s what everyone told me. But for me, it was always important that my drawings were… correct? Perfect? I could sit for hours and hours trying to draw the perfect horse, the perfect house, the perfect Ariel the little mermaid. But this one? It was about letting go, about bold movement, about just having fun with colors…
And I obviously had a very hard time doing it. Even as a child of maybe 7 or 8 years old. My picture was so… neat. And my classmates hated it (as opposed to everything else I drew or painted), and my teacher did not rate it as good as she rated the bold and wild and crazy and uncontrolled pictures of the other kids.
It’s all SO SERIOUS, and we’re all SO SERIOUS, and we’re running around chasing perfection and productivity and all kinds of things that will look good in our LinkedIn profile.
… and on your way to your lunch break you’re passing by a playground, and the swings smile at you and you feel a pull to let it all go for a second and be a little kid again. And then you „pull yourself together“, „snap out of it“ and ignore the swings, because what if your conservative superior sees you, or what if you get sand on your pretty blouse, and anyway, you’re way too old for this.
And your inner child dies a little more. This can’t be right. This doesn’t FEEL right. This can’t be all there is. Or, in the wise words of Shonda Rhimes:
„We’re adults. When did that happen? And how do we make it stop?“
Meredith Grey // Grey’s Anatomy
So please… draw outside the lines. Get messy. Have fun. Play! Your inner child will love you for it.
(And sorry if this post seems a little incoherent. I notived it but tried to refrain from trying to make it „perfect“ ;))