That Time When My Mind Took a Backseat

I'd been quietly dabbling in drawing when I saw Elle Luna announce on Instagram that the 100 Day Project was starting. It’s a commitment to make progress daily on a creative project for 100 consecutive days and share each day’s output on social media as an accountability mechanism. The goal is creativity for its own sake, with no expectation of quality. For some reason I couldn’t explain, I felt excited by the idea and decided to commit to it. I chose to create a new drawing of a woman each day for 100 days. 

My first struggle wasn’t drawing but sharing - this was the first time I showed anything I drew so publicly, to people who didn’t even know I liked to draw. I was afraid of judgment, but instead got overwhelming support from friends and family. I think my project also tugged at a creative yearning in some of them.

Around day 20 the worries started - how many more poses can I possibly draw? What will I do tomorrow? Many days I sat down late at night with zero energy, bored out of my mind at the idea of creating yet another drawing on the same subject. But every session resulted in a drawing, some of which weren’t too bad despite the uninspired beginning. 

As the days went by, I realized that for the first time in my life the engine pushing me forward was not my mind. Some internal force - soul? - was looking to be expressed and didn’t care what my mind thought or how bored or tired or unmotivated it was. The structure of the project kept my ego in check (I made a public commitment so couldn’t back out), which allowed this creative force to take over. 

The project didn’t make me lose my fear of sharing art publicly. It didn’t silence my inner critic - I still hear it demeaning everything I create. But it set an important precedence - I shared my art and didn’t die of embarrassment. People around me got to know this side of me, and some were even inspired by it. Sharing anything afterwards became a bit easier. Calling myself an artist became a possibility whereas before it felt presumptuous and strange. 

Is something in you waiting to be expressed as soon as you silence your mind? 

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