Guilt Over the Giraffe

It's okay to do fun stuff alone, right?

Hi friend!

I recently wrote to you about working with clay for the first time, and how the tactile experience brought me out of an illustrator’s block. Well, there’s a bit more to the story, something I didn’t tell you.

I actually felt uncomfortable taking the time to sit and play with the clay. Did it bring me great joy? Yes. Did it somehow bring me out of an artistic block? Yes. Am I itching to do it again? Yes.

Did anyone say anything to make me feel bad for sitting at the dining table on a Saturday afternoon making a pink giraffe? No. My son thought it was super cool and has requested that I make him a yellow dinosaur. My husband checked in with a Ghost reenactment…pretty funny.

Five years ago I don’t think that sitting down to try my hand at sculpting would have been a big deal at all. What has changed? I became a parent. Even though my son thinks anything creative I do is “cool” I still have this nagging feeling that if I’m not actively doing something that earns money then I should be meal prepping, or doing laundry, or building a Lego city with my kiddo, or taking my family on a hike or, or, or…

Exposing children to art, in all forms, is a good thing. I know this. So, shouldn’t I feel good about trying out a new (to me) form of art in front of him? The problem wasn’t that I was molding clay on a Saturday afternoon. The problem was that I was molding clay on a Saturday afternoon by myself!

That discomfort was actually guilt.

Taking time out to engage in an artistic endeavor that was just for me when I could have been doing something with, or for, my family… that was at the base of my guilt! Where does this come from? Who taught me this? My parents took time to read or watch television when I was around, and I know they had hobbies. I remember my dad sorting through and listening to his record collection in my parents’ bedroom. But now that I think about it, I don’t remember my mom engaging in anything for her, that was just for her, when I was home. Hmmm…more to dive into here.

For now, it feels good to get to the root of my self imposed guilt trip. Thank you for bearing with what basically amounts to a journal entry. I do think that when you write with a question in mind, a lot of the time the answer will bubble up to the surface.

Now that I know that my discomfort was actually guilt, I just need to figure out how to get over it. That’ll take another journaling session, and maybe a therapy session. If any of you have felt this sort of thing, and have any thoughts on getting past it, I’m all ears!

Until next time.

Yours with clay under her nails,