I read this piece out loud in community.
Creative Courage, its name, a community cultivated by GG Renee Hill.
The tremble in my voice could be heard just as clear as the shift when I found my pace. Found my ability to stand in this piece, it’s meaning, it’s rhythm, it’s importance to me.
My relationship with creativity is ever evolving, embodied everyday yet I evade when it comes to my career and the work I want to do in the world. This might be considered a conversation with my shadow artist or maybe it’s my inner critic. There are many labels that could be used to articulate this dialogue. Today for me it’s my inner girlfriend, an ever present evolving friendship that I choose to nurture and grow daily.
Allow me to introduce myself
I put pressure on myself to write, to learn, to expand.
It’s the logical side of me. To be better than yesterday even if just a little bit
What I learned about myself in this process is
I’m
Over thinker
Pantser
And, I wonder why I put myself through this.
Am I really a creative writer?
My creative-self flows with freedom and expression when I just let myself be.
I wander thrift stores to explore the world.
My creative expression doesn’t emerge smudging & sludging through my past, unearthing all that’s happened to me.
So I ask… what is Creative courage and self-advocacy?
The courage to make this process fun? Hmmmm, that requires more living of me.
Traveling to a new place allowing my body to explore in these spaces
Allowing my body to reintroduce itself to me and show how free spirit energy lives inside of me. The part of me who doesn’t define her life by all the experiences of my childhood.
Self-advocacy is my theme and I’m here wondering what needs advocating for…
My definition of creativity
Maybe? my creative relationship or
Redefining creativity…
I ask myself
How do I currently define it: I don’t know but I don’t know when I’m tapping into it either.
Is it just expression?
How do I want it to be: I was reminded of a glimpse last week, when I concocted this idea to create our own cosplay or reenacted vibe of love jones on a trip to Chicago in a couple weeks. I’ve line up an architectural river cruise, a night of moody romantic restaurants to hop too. I’ve purchased two out of my comfort zone sexy outfits.
Out of my comfort zone is this era
Not the Christesha I used to know, the one who was a bit wild and free
Of expression
Movement
People’s perspective of me
I developed this layer because my childhood had been so layered in responsibility & care giving, that when I broke free…
I became... Unhinged. Non-attached
20 years later attached I’ve cultivated a life of responsibility and care giving
Wondering where’s the creative freedom, in this season
It’s layered, I’m searching for it… in a new career and while I’m excited, I’m wondering if I’m searching for another way to be a caregiver, to be responsible for lifting a community
Am I taking on even bigger responsibilities?
My creativity and I need to get to know one another again.
Only then can I understand and unearth such courage
My mind wanders: I recall dancing in the rainy streets of New Orleans
What about this is significant?
Why this memory now?
I think of the 5 years I spent dating my hubs, I danced my nights away. Shoot I danced many nights away before him. Feeling the beat of the music, always the second beat, the one that’s hardest hear. Why, it’s underneath the performance, like an understudy carry the show unbeknownst to the crowd.
Its also the most fun to move and dance to. It’s like being on your own world.
I’d hit the dance floor from the time I arrived until they turned the lights on, only stopping when the DJ declared it a night.
My mind wanders: Paint, I think.
But paint hasn’t excited me since my childhood and was it ever paint?
I recall a piece of art made in high school “ladybug” was its name, and my nickname. Ladybug spelled out in cursive and the letters turned into lady bugs with green vines intertwined between letters and curves. My art teacher kept that piece. I wonder if I remember it because she kept it.
Hmm, Oil pastels
My relationship with paint today is a that of a voyeur. I watch acrylic paint bottles sit and collect dust on an art cart.
To sit down with it involves my body tensing with expectations lingering, probably pouncing and creative energy disappearing. It wanes and eludes me.
My mind wanders: to this dress I just bought; black and white print. I immediately loved how the collar and sleeves felt painted on my body. As soon as I put in on, I knew I needed/wanted a pin or brooch to raise the side to show a bit of leg.
Why does this matter now? Can you share its significance?
Creative Expression with my body.
I knew how I wanted to move in this piece, once I tried it on.
Is that how my creativity works? I’ll know how I want to move when I try on the right piece… the right expression for me.
Deep breathe. Even Longer exhales.
Because I feel my logic desiring to run with it. I think. Or is that my creativity stirring up ideas internally, wondering if I get it, if I’m ready to redefine this relationship.
I don’t know.
My relationship with the sensations of my nervous system is budding.
Recently discovering, I label it all the same. Chaotic. when it’s so much more, so layered and desiring to called by a different name.
It’s kind of like I’m stereotyping a feeling before I get to know its last name.
Deep breathes.
Because I’m wandering between too many nuances and possibilities to share… jumping between... “if it could BE’s”
To imagine this visually…
it’s as if you can see electrical impulses traveling down myelin’s sheaths searching for connection points. considering a myriad of maybes
Searching for the why? The point of connection.
I guess I’ve got my answer logic’s pounce, has fuck around and took over this piece.
Creativity I’m still reaching for you. Yes, I’ll study you. How you show up, how you feel, ways to tap in… because until I understand you… I’m not sure how to advocate for my own creative courage.
What does creative courage mean to you?
How do you advocate for your creative-self in your daily life?
Hi, I’m Chris, writer and coach who interweaves personal narrative and reflective inquiry to explore everyday moments with curiosity.
As a coach I hold space for you to slow down, tune in and find threads to pull. These threads often lead to creating gentle practices that stitch together where you are and where you want to be. My approach as a writer and coach is intimate and laid-back, infused with humor and heart, making every story or session feel like a conversation with a close friend.
As writer of this journal, I invite you into my world of exploration, creativity and logic. I write about life, health and everything in between. Some issues will guide you through practices that create space to pause, listen and practice, while others I’ll simply invite you to read my journal as I navigate that journey myself.