It happens when I forget to create. When life becomes all too overwhelming and I find myself trying to complete the pointless tasks at hand, because I'm told I need to do them to be a good everything. So, instead of creating art, stories, beautiful tastes, and lasting relationships I shut myself in a room, away from the world, and attend to my duties.
Today I couldn't take it anymore. I blocked the excuses, of other duties needing to be performed, out of my head and decided to write. Not for your enjoyment, but because I need to. Art and writing is thought to be made for viewers and readers. Even we, the creators, make ourselves believe that lie sometimes, but really it's for us. Creating, keeps us alive. It keeps us living and breathing.
This past year I was given the challenging task of teaching, seven classes of art, to three hundred and sixteen urban 7th graders. (If that doesn't look challenging to you, please enlighten me on how to accomplish this task for this next year. I would love to hear it.) At first I took it on strong, but only because I like a challenge and am addicted to the feeling of accomplishment. But I fell (failed). I fell (failed) hard. Not the kind of falling I did when I first learned to ride a bicycle, but the kind in which I had been riding for a few years now and I got more adventurous and daring and then...BOOM! My face and body smashed into the rocky ground, hard. I laid there limp.
The me I know would've gotten up, fixed her wounds, figured out where she went wrong and move on down the path. This time I couldn't. The constant paperwork, the mandatory parent phone calls, the constant grading, the constant second, third, fourth, fifth chances (so I wouldn't have 50+ students failing), the constant project preparation, the constant re-directing, the constant name calling and aggression, the constant drama, the constant names and aggression directed towards me, the constant need for physical, psychological, and emotional attention. The constant isolation and lack of support. It all became too much to carry, too much to handle.
I did what I do in times like this; put all of my time into my duties, shut myself away from the world, and I quit spending time on creating (because how was that going to help me accomplish my unending duties? They wouldn't...or so I thought.) I don't want my words to make you think my whole entire year was terrible, because it wasn't. At least outside of school. I had a loving and supportive boyfriend, amazing and loving Minnesota & Houston family and friends, and a few beautiful souls called teachers that carried me through the year. But it was hard, and I shut down.
I drug projects out for weeks, because I didn't have the energy or inspiration to create new ones and demonstrate the process. I would eat lunch in my room alone, because I just wanted time to sit and be, but sometimes I felt the need to use it to complete the never ending duties laid before me. I would dread waking up every weekly morning, scared of everything I would possibly have to deal with during the day. Even after school I dipped out on friends, because I felt like I had nothing more to give and just needed time for me. Then there were days I couldn't hold it all in and I would bawl my eyes out, in front of one of the beautiful souls that carried me through the year.
Toward the end of the year I started to find myself again. It started with a call from a friend. She needed the rest of her engagement photos taken and asked if I'd do them over spring break. In my head I was thinking I haven't photographed anything like that in a long while and I sure as hell haven't kept up with photographing with the tasks at hand, but I said, "Yes."
It felt good to use my artist eye again. It felt good to move around the earth and see the beauty in different angles and the way the sun lights up faces. I felt alive.
Then I had a student, who's cries I couldn't ignore anymore. She told me real life stories. Painful ones. Stories that broke my heart apart. She cried, I held her holding back my waterfall of tears and asked if I could pray. She said, "Yes."
These kids needed me. They didn't care about my unending duties. These broken hearts just wanted someone to love them and give them attention. There is something about the realization that you are needed that is like a jolting awakening. It hurt a little, but it was what I needed. Something about helping people and loving people gives me life. She gave me what I needed to get out of my Zombie self and do what I needed/loved to do.
Sometime later my friend called again. She told me the trouble she was having with the wedding and doing what her heart wanted. She then asked me to photograph her special day in Hawaii. Again, In my head I thought I haven't done that in so long, it's at night and I'm not that strong in the dark and on and on and on, but I said, "Yes!" And I did. I photographed her wedding. It was beautiful. There was sunshine and there was rain. There was laughter and oh so much beautiful, love. I soaked it all in. I felt the most joy being who I was created to be, than I had in such a long time. I felt fully and completely alive again.
As my little summer comes to an end, I can't help but feel all of the feelings I felt this year start rushing in again. I'm scared of becoming a Zombie. I have a little hope though, because I now know my need to create. Creating doesn't make me less efficient, it makes me more efficient because I am fully alive. God gave me gifts of artistry, writing, loving and mercy. If I don't use them, I die. I might not be considered a good employee or whatever they want to call me, but I am going to put duties aside and create.
When I create, I do more, I feel more, I love more, I help more and I smile more.
I am my best self and that is all that I want to be.
To those of you that stood by me, loved me and made me open up and create; Thank you!
I love you.
-Ashley
