Sometimes I think about if I were me in a different life…
I’d be a free spirit. Someone who loves yoga and being outside. Somebody obsessed with good coffee and drinks it black. I’d say random things that nobody understands, but then turn those thoughts into art that everyone relates to. I’d prefer dancing to anything else, my iTunes account would have way more music on it, and I’d listen to it constantly.
If I lived my artist life, I would be heavy with “misunderstoodness” rather than busyness or stress. I’d more freely blur the lines than rigidly follow them, and encourage others to do the same.
I would write every day.
And host people constantly. I would experiment in the kitchen without calculating the number of dirty dishes in advance to see if I should even bother. I would perform in community theatre. I’d own a bike and ride it regularly.
I would twirl at least once a day.
I wouldn’t shy away from bright colors and they would fill my house. Buying beautiful art wouldn’t feel like an impractical use of my money. If I were my artist self, self-consciousness is a thing of the past. I’d rejoice in people so very different from me. And, they wouldn’t be put off by my slightly kooky ways… but endeared.
A few things would be exactly the same. I am desperately and wholly in love with my husband. My dog is the cutest thing in the world, according to me. And I’m incredibly grateful for a Creator God infinitely more artistic than I am.
The question is: how do I start living my artist life in this one?