Why I Create: A Story of REturning
March 2020 - the drawing that brought my creativity back
This is the beginning of a new chapter for me—a space to share reflections on creativity, beauty, healing, and the winding path that connects them. I thought I’d begin by telling you a little about how I found my way back to art after many years away.
As a grade school girl, I created without even realizing it: dancing in my basement to '80s music, riding my bike outside, or sitting cross-legged on my bedroom floor writing poetry or drawing. I grew up in a loving, well-provided-for family—but I was often lonely. With both parents working full-time and an older sister who mostly kept to herself, I had a lot of solo time. Filling the hours came naturally. I’d always finish my homework right away so I could get on with more enjoyable pursuits, unburdened.
Creativity came easily. When I wrote poems, I expressed what I felt without ever imagining someone else might read them. I simply created. It never occurred to me not to.
But in high school, once my writing and art began to be critiqued, I started to turtle. Realizing there were things “wrong” with my art that others could see—but I could not—made me self-conscious. I’ve since learned that self-consciousness is the enemy of creativity. Still, it raises a difficult question: how do we tap into our inner vision, pursue growth and quality, and still remain free of paralyzing self-doubt?
That’s the tricky part. The sweet spot is being able to find the self—but lose the ego—so you can create freely while staying open to growth, without being derailed by feedback. What I cherish about my adolescent creative self is that I created because it kept me present. When we fixate on criticism, we lose ourselves in the past or the future. And when we abandon the present, we’ve lost the only real thing we have.
Unfortunately, I let other voices drown out my own. I didn’t pursue formal study in the arts. After college (earning a degree I didn’t truly want), I worked for real estate agents and architecture firms, drafting and drawing detailed illustrations of homes. While there were parts I enjoyed, it wasn’t a true creative practice—not the way I was doing it. It was work for clients.
Fast-forward a few years, and I found myself sitting at my easel, longing to draw while holding a crying infant. I realized, at least for me, the two weren’t compatible. That day, I packed away this part of myself, tied on an apron, and threw myself into raising a young family—on a farm, no less.
Now, I so wish I could reach back to the woman I was that day and tell her: You don’t have to give it up. You can still incorporate creativity while balancing responsibilities. In fact, doing so might make you a better parent and a more effective person. (More on that in later posts.)
Like many of us, I eventually faced a disorienting and painful life shift. The grief and lostness I felt were beyond words. But I was determined to grieve well so I could one day live a healed life. So, through the familiar darkness I went.
The following year, the COVID pandemic shut the world down. I suddenly had a lot of time at home. I hiked, sang, read, cried, talked, and kept moving through my despair. One day, after a walk through a field, I returned with a handful of winter sprigs. As I arranged them in a bud vase, a long-forgotten thought surfaced: I want to draw these.
It had been 13 years since I’d drawn.
I found some paper and a pen and sat down to sketch. What flooded through me was a sense of homecoming—a return to something I’d deeply needed and long missed. A place that brought me fully into the present. A space where I could channel my energy and let the work of healing quietly simmer in the background. A little respite from the heavy inner work. Enough to let the wound rest. Relief.
When I showed my kids the drawing, they stared, mouths agape.
“You can draw like that?!” they asked, astonished.
I laughed. “Yeah, I guess I’ve never told you—or shown you—but yes. I love drawing. I used to do it all the time.”
They gave me a look and told me I should draw more, wondering why I hadn’t been. I wondered that too.
And so I started. And then I really started. Drawing every day became a little gift to myself. As I began sharing my work on social media, more and more people asked where they could buy a piece or if I took commissions. I figured I’d give it a try—as a career.
That, of course, is its own adventure (more on that later, too).
These days, my creative practice includes drawing, photography, writing, dancing, and simply admiring the beauty all around me. Whatever the form, making time for creativity is something I never plan to neglect again.
This is the beginning of a new chapter for me—a space to share reflections on creativity, beauty, healing, and the winding path that connects them. I thought I’d begin by telling you a little about how I found my way back to art after many years away.
Thank you for reading my story. I’m excited to continue sharing more about my journey with creativity, how it’s shaped my life, and how I’m reconnecting with it every day. If you’re interested in following along, I’d love to have you join my newsletter, where I’ll be sending updates, stories, and tips for cultivating creativity in your own life.
Feel free to connect with me on social media too—I'd love to hear your thoughts and see what you're creating. Until next time! ♡V