Remember when you were a kid and there was that one thing that you loved to do more than anything? For me there were a couple of things. First, it was to go to my grandmother’s house and swing on her swings. She had two swings in her backyard that were securely cemented into the ground so I could swing as high as I wanted to. I’d get in that swing and pump and pump to go as high as I could. I love the tingly feeling in my stomach as I headed toward the ground to be carried back up again to touch the sky. I could swing for hours.
The second thing I loved was to play jacks with my sisters. We were quite competitive, sitting on the floor for hours until our mother would call us to do chores or come to dinner.
This last year I realized I was missing that kind of joy in my life and I wanted it back. As an adult, I’d grown into a life of being productive, responsible, fulfilling obligations, proving that somehow I was worthy of drawing breath. Too often I felt guilty for not doing more, being more than I was. Then I read a book by Brene’ Brown, called Daring Greatly.
Dr. Brown is a shame researcher. You know shame. The way you felt in junior high school because you didn’t measure up in some way. We all know what shame feels like. Yeah, she researches that stuff, and has found it is debilitating to every aspect of our lives. She also discovered that one of the ways to overcome shame is to play, just like we used to as kids. She said that even she struggled with the whole idea of playing. After all, she was an important researcher with people to see, places to go, things to do. She didn’t have time for any silly play stuff. She believed that was just for kids. Until her research said otherwise. She was amazed at how different she felt when she started to give herself some play time.
That’s when I decided I needed to play again, and watching TV did not count. I knew getting on the floor and playing jacks was out of the question. Besides, I don’t know that anyone plays jacks anymore. And they don’t make swings to fit my body type. However, I longed for that joyful feeling again.
A few ideas came to my mind. One of them was to attend a painting class. I knew there were a few of them around. But the idea of looking at a painting that I was supposed to copy didn’t settle well with me. In the first place, I didn’t consider myself to be any kind of artist, but mostly I hated the idea of trying to paint a picture where I would compare it to someone who really knew what they were doing. I didn’t need one more thing to compare myself to, so the paint class was out. So I kept searching.
One day I “just happened” onto some videos on YouTube on acrylic pouring and within minutes I was hooked. I figured I’d discovered some new thing that people made up to keep themselves busy during the pandemic. After watching several videos, I made a list of all the things I needed and headed out to the craft store, praying they’d have the supplies. To my great surprise there was a whole end cap devoted to acrylic pouring, with everything I needed. Apparently it wasn’t a new thing at all. I loaded up my cart, and headed home to play.
At first I was scared. What if I didn’t do it right? Funny, that was exactly the feeling I was trying to avoid, so with a bit of trepidation I jumped in. I consider my first piece a disaster. The paints really didn’t do what I wanted them to. But I’d seen enough videos of people who’d been doing this for a while who had bad days too so I gave it another chance. When I let go of the expectation and simply allowed the paint to flow it became therapeutic, almost mesmerizing. I had my granddaughter, who deals with anxiety, try it. She loved it! Said she wanted to just paint all day. I found I couldn’t get enough.
Eventually, I knew I wanted to share the joy I felt with others, so I starting inviting people over to experience the joy of playing with paint. To date, every person I’ve had over has absolutely loved it. This is not a class. It isn’t a party. It’s an experience where you connect with the joy of creating the unexpected. It’s an opportunity to find out how fun it is to watch paint dry. Come join me!
Classes held in the Syracuse, Utah area. Contact me at cosettesnarr@msn.com to set up a class for you and your friends or group.
