Finding peace in my art after losing my roots.
This past year in August I lost someone very dear to me, my father, and while it was a difficult moment to process at the time I had no idea the ripples in my creativity it would rupture.
You see, ever since I was a small child my Dad would always tease me saying, ''Are you ever going to amount to anything?" and always some words in between and then end it with, "Little Girl". So I always wanted to prove to him that whatever I did with my work would be good.
The whole, "I will show him!!" bit.
Even as a small child the arts in all its various mediums and forms interested me. In fact when I got to high school it was the one subject I looked forward to each day as a time to relax. My Dad always funded my projects with brushes, paints, papers, and I even remember one Christmas being gifted a really nice easel and my first semi-professional paint bottles. I was elated.
As the years moved on, and my Dad retired he took up photography, at that point I was starting to explore a different less common route than most were at the time for creating income, I took up jewelry making. At first it was a hobby, I confess, not the best. I had no formal schooling like I did with fine arts but there was something about it that I found really relaxing, and also the fact of having a finished piece that did not belong on a wall but rather could be worn for all the world to see! I allowed myself to really study the subject on what few books were out there and what few resources I was able to acquire since I did not have access to the internet or a computer. I was self taught.
Learning my voice.
Fast forward to last year, in the highlight of a blossoming Etsy business, no I don't have a thousand sales, but I do have a following. Something to show my Dad to be proud of, but you see, his heart condition took a turn for the worse. Even after being admitted to the hospital I told myself he would be okay. Deep down I had my doubts, Daddy didn't seem much like himself. I was not sure what I was going to face, and we never know what it will be like until it hits us personally. My loss was really deep, hard to cope (I confess it still is) and I feel like half of me is gone. You see, all these years of proving and having that drive to be better. The seeds that made me try to doubt myself, question my motives, grow and prove that jewelry could be more than just to wear, that it indeed could be art.
All of that, was silenced.
It was in that silence that I had to reach deep within myself, and to find something in this pain. At first I just made myself busy, for the sake of being busy. Some people clean, some people write. I did a little writing too, but it was so personal and aching that I find it hard to reveal. When I finally was able to sit down, and really pull that darkness, tug on its fibers and call it out for what it was.
The Truth is...
Art jewelry does not always have to come from a happy place to be beautiful, to be a treasure. It can sometimes come from the worst imaginable pain. A child who will never be held by her father again, who's conversations turn into rambling because the questions are never answered. This is all okay. This is what makes us grow, and find that creativity in loss.
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So hear is to rebirth, to finding my voice again.
Because sometimes, it's with you all along, even when you doubt yourself.
-Nova Leigh
