“Audacity” 4×4, oil on canvas, framed.
My husband pointed out to me recently (several times actually) that I do not bring the same kind of carefree boldness to sharing my writing as I do to sharing my paintings. That there’s hesitancy there. As much as I wish he weren’t, he is right. I tell people (him included) nearly every day: stop worrying about whether or not it’s good, just make the art already! And yet, when it comes to the art I might love the most– the art that uses language instead of paint– I find myself doing the same things I’ve long preached against. Turns out I have the same inner critic I thought I’d long ago banished, the same protective ego saying maybe just keep all that to yourself.
In the quiet of my morning today I formed this prayer– an invitation to audacity– that almost reckless kind of boldness that insists upon itself. The painting began as a response to a gratitude practice I’ve been cultivating, but the more I looked at her, the more I realized she was actually the fruits of that practice: boldness. Gratitude always grants me security. And it is from security that I might dare…
Welcome, Audacity