I Can’t Enjoy You, I’m Trying Too Hard to Be You.

I like art. Big surprise right? I see it everywhere. I like splashes of color. I like textures. I like patterns. I like just the right grouping of words, just the right angle in a photo, just the right gathering of musical notes, just the right sprinkling of sugar on top of a scone. I like sharp contrast and messy edges. I like beautiful snippets from everyday life.

But there is this problem that sometimes weasels its way into my enjoyment of art. I suppose it could be labeled as envy. Yes, that is it, if it should be given a name.

It’s interesting to me that one of my strengths is that I am an achiever. And while that achieving strength is layered with all sorts of good qualities like having a great deal of stamina and being a hard driven, busy and productive worker, it also comes with what has been described as a “whisper of discontent.”

And here is where the interesting bit comes in…compare my strength with the definition of ENVY.

Envy – a feeling of discontent or covetousness with regard to another’s advantages, success, possessions, etc.

By nature, one of my greatest strengths can also rear it’s ugly head as one of my greatest weaknesses.

And I must confess, I have to fight that whisper of discontent as an artist because I have a hard time letting my favorite artists just be my favorite artists. If I discover some new art, I don’t want to just enjoy it, I want it as my own. I feel some sort of competitive spirit rise up within me, the winds of discontent begin to blow and I think, oh, I could make art like that. Surely. And then I seek to not only try and make that art, but to, in some ways, become that person.

This all came pouring out one night as I sat across from Tony in Panera watching him sip on a chai latte. I love how he can coax things out of me that I’m struggling with and then bring some sense and clarity and hope to it all.

So I think this post could really be a series of posts, as I seek to unearth the artist I really should be, instead of all the artists I have tried to be. But for now, let’s just start with this simple and incredibly humbling confession.

I am not Ali Edwards.

I am not Elsie Flannigan.

I am not Keri Smith.

I am not Sabrina Ward Harrison.

I am not Penelope Dullaghan.

I am not Donald Miller.

I am not Pomplamoose.

I am not my artistic contacts in Flickr or Twitter or Facebook.

I am not  _____.

And I have not been able to fully enjoy all of your beautiful art fully because there has been a piece of me, at one time or another, trying so hard to be you.

I am letting that go.

I am attempting to ignore my whisper of discontent, though I fear, in this life, I will never be able to completely silence it.

Even though I want to achieve it all, I realize that what results is me dangerously spinning my wheels. I flit from one art medium to another. I try and wear her shoes and then his shoes. I try everything and enjoy nothing. I don’t enjoy my art and I don’t enjoy others art. And that’s sad, because as I told you at the beginning of this post, I like art.

I am on a journey to find the artist Mandy Steward.

Can’t you see the central issue in all this? It is not what I do. It is what God is doing, and he is creating something totally new, a free life!

That means we will not compare ourselves with each other as if one of us were better and another worse. We have far more interesting things to do with our lives. Each of us is an original.

Make a careful exploration of who you are and the work you have been given, and then sink yourself into that. Don’t be impressed with yourself. Don’t compare yourself with others. Each of you must take responsibility for doing the creative best you can with your own life.