For the creatives who’ve ever felt undervalued

22 Jun

This week has been a teacher, in many ways. Although I wish this Sunday moved a little slower, so I could relax just a little bit more, I am glad this week is over. I Look towards the upcoming Monday & I see a fresh, clean slate upon which I could build a new, more fulfilling week. Whilst others dread Mondays, I find them grounding and empowering: that first morning - a new beginning, new opportunities to grasp or let go, new projects to start, new adventures to dive into. How truly exciting!

Before I get ahead of myself and plan a whole new week, I practice a new habit I have developed at the start of this year: Sunday Reflections.

Each Sunday evening I dedicate half an hour to pausing and reflecting on the week that has just passed. I look at the highlights that brightened each day, the lows and the challenges that helped me grow, and all the quiet moments in between that made it easier to navigate the lows, maintaining balance and equilibrium.

I reflect upon the amount of time I spent doing the things I feel utmost compelled to: creating bodies of work that are meant to move, to inspire (even if just myself) or to convey some sort of meaning. Things like: styling a scene to tell a story, capturing an image or a short moment that holds meaning, writing, or envisioning new projects and mapping out the steps that will get me from idea to an outcome.

I hold the magnifying glass upon the amount of time I spent savouring the small, joyful moments of every day: walks with my dogs at sunrise, when the busy song of birds and the rustling of the wind through the trees create the only music of the morning… a good cup of coffee, the soft caress of a silky shirt on my sun kissed shoulder, marvelling at the new flower buds on the rose shrubs, or the fresh, earthy scent of the garden, stirred by the sudden fall of the rain. I find that I fall short on this side of the scales, and I always plan to allow more time for such moments in the upcoming week.

Lastly, I take a hard look at the time I spent doing things I felt coerced into - things that led me astray from my path and added unplanned grief and hurt, or simply took space that could have been used on more beautiful, more meaningful labour.

In holding this weekly review, I teach myself to recognise the things that uplift me and move me, those that distract me from my purpose, and those that drain my mental and/or physical energy.
In this way, I can shape my upcoming week in a way that better honours my needs, my work capacity and my creative pursuits. I add more time where is needed the most, carve time for rest, and allow a little extra for surprises - because there’s *almost always something.*
One concept I have learnt recently is that each project comes with a *task footprint* - and sometimes a single, small event could bring with it a stack of tasks that would take hours, days of weeks to get through.
Such an event occurred this week, and it forced me to deal with a lot of unforeseen, frustrating little tasks that took time away from what was really important to me. They distracted and stressed me, affected my mood and put a stain on the better part of the week.

This particular event has forced me to reflect on my work as a creative, and what a shock to the system it is to face a situation in which someone tries to devalue the work that I forged through my passion, skills and vision.

As I dealt with the aftermath of this unwanted guest in my mental house, I looked back at all the years of stubborn perseverance through the art of visual storytelling. I always thought I was meant to become a writer, yet sometime along the way, I decided I wanted to learn how to transpose a message or tell a story through visuals alone.

Memories that span almost a decade came to mind: from hikes through the rain, capturing views from mountain peaks, to photo shoots in midge-infested Scottish landscapes, to frustrating moments of experimentation in rooms poorly lit, between the rugged walls of a house whose renovation seems to stretch on for ever…

As I walked down this memory lane, I felt my heart grow with a sense of pride - for having pushed through, all this years; through self-doubt, through burnout, sickness, depression, and the everlasting feeling that nothing I do will ever come close to what I envision.

Every single image, still or otherwise, that I have created along the years carries a special meaning, regardless of how insignificant it would seem to an undiscerning eye.

Every single thing I have ever created holds within itself the weight of my soul; from the flicker of a candle in the darkness of a room, to the way the light falls on the petal of a wildflower, to the view of a valley sprawling at my feet, at the end of a long, laborious uphill struggle, every moment I have captured holds within itself the essence of life - my life.