In reading my diaries
from three years ago, something really stands out which helped me to
get where I am today. So I'm going to share the secret of my success*
I read a book by Keri
Smith, called Living
Out Loud. I borrowed it from the library at Batley School
of Art when I visited my friend Claudia, before I even studied there.
It seemed really exciting at the time being able to borrow a book
about art. I copied down loads of things out of it, instead of just
buying it, and it occurs to me I still don't own a copy. I'm
remedying that immediately after writing this.
In March 2009, I
was deciding what to do with my life. My sick pay had run out, I
couldn't get job seekers allowance, and the job centre recommended
going self-employed. My diary is full of histrionic entries about my
lack of care, interspersed with me talking about tidying my house.
It's during one of these entries that I wrote this:
This morning I got up at 6am, and started
moving things around in the study and dining room again.
Whilst doing so, I had a BRILLIANT IDEA and built a tent
out of blankets, put loads of pillows in it, and sat under
it. I think I read somewhere that it's good for being
creative. It kept falling down, so in the end I was just
sitting on pillows with a blanket over my head like a
parrot.
Me in my shop, where I enjoy playing daily
Me in my shop, where I enjoy playing daily
That, dear friends, was
something I read in the Keri Smith book. Whenever I talk to people
now about this book, why I'm OK with not having children, or how I
started being creative for a living, this story always trots its way
out of my mouth. This is because my life became better when I started
behaving more like a child.
You see, I love being
around children, and I always have. I was a babysitter from the age
of 12, not just evenings, but the whole of school holidays too. My
work experience trials at school were both in schools because I
wanted to be a teacher. After I left school, I carried on
volunteering with children in schools through Volunteer Reading Help,
and worked as an Applied Behavioural therapist with autistic
children.
Everyone told me I'd
make a great mother, but as I got older, and we realised having
children was looking more unlikely, it upset me. Luckily, my friends
started having them instead - I'm one of those people who looks
forward to seeing friends' children as well as the friends. I have a
toy box (shaped like a treasure chest) which gets dragged out, two
shelves of children's books, and I'm usually to be found sitting on
the floor playing games with them while their parents try and talk to
me.
I definitely treat
children like small adults. I've never been into 'goo goo-ing' at
babies, and I use the same vocabulary as I do with everyone else –
I just explain what the longer words mean if the child asks. Usually
they don't, they get the meaning of the sentence as a whole (like
people for whom English isn't their first language I guess). I'm not
saying this is the right way to talk to children, by any means, I'm
just showing how I see adults and children, which should make better
sense of this post.
What I'm trying to
explain is that to me acting like a child isn't about regressing my
behaviour, being naughty, eating sweets and so on. It's the way I
view my world and the things within it. There's not a massive
delineation in my head between talking to a child and talking to an
adult – I swear less obviously, but otherwise I talk the same
gobbledegook. I agree with the ideas they come up with, laugh at the
same jokes, and get annoyed at the same things.
The way children look
at the world is so creative. When we wrote stories at school, we'd
always draw a picture, we stopped for playtime two or three times a
day – and we were, on the whole, happy. Can you remember laughing
more than when you were pre-teen? I see my friends filling their
children's school holidays with art projects, play dates, and visits
to museums and galleries.
Keri
Smith's book advocates all these things for adults too, and reading
it gave me 'permission' to do these things and not feel guilty. Once
I realised I didn't have to have children of my own to 'play', my
mood lifted considerably. I went on play dates with myself, packing a
rucksack with pencils, paper and a bottle of squash. As mentioned
above, I built a den in my spare bedroom, and sat under it reading.
It's
not just about making time for yourself, an oft quoted women's
magazine obsession – I don't want to put on a face mask or have a
relaxing bath, although I don't begrudge anyone who does enjoy that.
Children fill their free time doing things they want to do, and it's
only when they aren't allowed to that they get upset – it's a good
lesson for adulthood, because we can't always get what we want, can
we?
When I did my art
course, I'd just been doing it so long, it didn't seem stupid any
more. Drawing was just what I did, as I kept having to explain to
people who wanted to know how I'd managed to do so much homework. I
had to explain that making a pen
holder out of old toilet rolls was not a compulsory part of the
course, but I was making it anyway, and it fitted the brief.
Some
people on my course never got this. However, the ones who did really well
were the ones for whom being creative was either just part of their
life, or it became a part of their life once they found the right
medium. Two examples spring to mind.
- Kim was someone who had always drawn all the time at home. She came on our course, and after gaining confidence in her drawing, she opened a tattoo studio at the age of 20. This has been a fantastic success, and now she's fully booked all the time, and she's still only 21.
- AM had been a florist, and thought she wasn't very good at art, although she felt creative. She struggled while we were painting or drawing, but kept on 'playing' Then, once we started doing photography, she blossomed. She ended up doing the rest of the course in half the time, and is now an award winning photographer.
So today I urge you to
do something fun. Doodle something on your telephone message pad, and
if you think you can't draw (and everyone can, it's just some are
better than others) then get yourself a colouring book. Drag out that
knitting you never finished, and use the wool to make a pom-pom with
a cardboard circle like at school. If you have children, borrow some
of their toys, set up their doll's house in a way that pleases you or
redress their Barbie doll.
Like
everything, it'll take practice. You'll feel like an idiot at first,
but once you learn to let go, it's liberating, and you might find a
hidden talent.
For more information, go to Keri Smith's website at KeriSmith.com
If you're in the Leeds area, there's something exciting going on you might be interested in as well - Playful Leeds
* success as quantified
by being happy in my work, not monetary