How (And Why) I Became a Late-Blooming Artist

I’d never even thought about making art until one night, on the eve of yet another outpatient procedure (more on that later). when I was feeling particularly anxious and vulnerable, I needed to distract myself from the endless worst-case scenarios that were re-playing in my mind. But how?

The solution was right in front of me. Literally. It came in the form of a #2 pencil and a pad of paper sitting on the coffee table. 

I picked up that pencil and paper and began to draw, using a portrait from National Geographic as my inspiration. I hadn’t drawn in 40 years: my skills were rusty and my instruments were crude, at best, but as I worked, I began to feel a sense of calm that I remembered from drawing so long ago. As I began to construct the outline, then the features, a quiet peace descended over me. I was in control of that tiny sliver of paper and that pencil. I could channel all of my anxiety through my hand, out through that pencil and onto the paper. When I finished, I marveled at my work. Not only had I created a little masterpiece, but I had created a shift in my thought pattern:  finally relaxed, I realized that drawing had quieted my negative thoughts and hijacked my irrational fears.

Call it serendipity, divine intervention or the universe nudging me, but that night, I found art again--I was 58 years old.

All my life, I’ve struggled with anxiety and occasional depression, but both were exacerbated by the diagnosis of a serious autoimmune disease in 2005. By December of 2017, the challenges of my on again/off again illness, being a mom to five children, working full-time, and moving four times in 6 years (the most recent move taking us far away from family and friends on the East Coast) had begun to take their toll. I was sick, lonely, tired, and living in a place where the winters are long, cold, dark and isolating. I needed an outlet. Luckily, that’s when my simple art-making tools magically appeared under my nose. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was about to embark upon a journey of self-healing and creativity through my own improvised program of art therapy.

Since then, I’ve explored multiple new mediums: collage, watercolor, alcohol inks, and acrylic paints. Each time I step into my studio, I’m filled with wonder about the possibilities ahead, pride at the work I’m creating, and the feeling that I’ve crossed into that proverbial ‘zone’-where my mind lets go, my brain and body disconnect, and my intuition takes over. Through art, I’ve relearned how to play and explore; I’ve rekindled that child-like freedom to create with no filters, especially when I crank up the music. BOOM! The colors emerge from my palette onto the blank canvas, and I’m in control of what happens next. During these past few years, when my life--and the world at large--sometimes feel out of control, art has given me a place to rest my mind, body and soul. 

If anyone had asked me five years ago if I’d be an abstract painter, I would have laughed out loud. I always thought abstract art was cool, but it was something only real artists did. I was not cool. Nor was I an artist. 

But oh, how quickly you can transform your life when you are motivated to learn something new! I am still on that path of learning, growing and finding my artistic voice, but that’s been the best part of my late-blooming journey. I am a walking advertisement for how it’s never too late to begin again. Finding art at this stage of my life has been truly transformative.

So, if you’re a late-bloomer like me, leave me a message here letting me your story. How (and WHY) did you find art? What happened in YOUR life that made you turn to art? I’d love to connect and start a community of late-bloomers here!