A Gift: Creativity

Home away from home: The art store

Not everything about my disorder is terrible. Indeed, it has "unleashed" (for lack of a better word) a wonderful creative streak inside of me. When I arrived home after my first hospitalization in 2002, I remember well driving to a local art store and purchasing canvases, acrylic paint, brushes and other material. I wanted to create art. Lots of it.

I also went to fabric shops and thrift stores looking for prints I could cut up and incorporate into my pieces. I became fascinated with old buttons and beads. And newspapers -- oh, the newspapers -- magazines and books.

Every day, from around 8:30 a.m. to 5:00 p.m., I would sit outside on our porch furiously cranking out piece after piece. I would stop every now and then to have a cigarette (I was a chain smoker back then) and some cold coffee but would quickly return to my task. My husband would come home from work to find my pieces scattered around the porch. He would smile and say, "Great job honey! These are really good!" That served to inspire me even more.

A few months later, he convinced me to have an informal "art show" on the porch during the annual community yard sale. Hundreds of folks wander throughout our neighborhood looking for finds. I was nervous, but agreed to do it. Imagine my surprise when people not only loved my art, they wanted to buy it!

My husband quickly made up some prices and out the door the art went. One woman bought three pieces. I couldn't believe anyone could find beauty in something created by a bipolar mind. But fascinated they were. I don't know how many pieces we have sold over the years, but it's been many. Some I miss and wish I could have back -- but selling them helped to strengthen my fragile self-esteem a little bit.

Also, I developed a passion for gourmet cooking. It literally came out of nowhere and I continue to crank out wonderful dishes to this day (my husband is very spoiled). I believe it is the color, the texture, the smell of the ingredients; combining complex ingredients together to create a wonderful dish; the challenge of preparing something new day after day. I took a part-time (albeit low-paying!) job so I could devote the entire afternoon to my cooking. I'm very proud of it.

And then there's the writing. Oh, how I love to write. It flows so effortlessly for me, a natural gift. Now, I do get "writer's block" sometimes, something I never contended with before my diagnosis and the medications I must take. It does eventually go away, but I never know how long the block will last.

So all is not "gloom and doom" for me. I am talented in many respects. Other individuals with a mental illness are too. It can go with the territory. I think (?) my husband took some photos of some of my artwork that was sold. I will see if I can find them and post. I'd love to get your feedback!