My Dusty Art Supplies
By Mae Williams
I look at my art supplies in the corner of my room and can’t help but notice the accumulation of dust they have collected. I am intimated to open them, fearful I lost my skill. I’m not sure where I got the idea I have to succeed in order to create. I have succumbed to the pressure cooker of society. I focus on passing classes and working enough hours to support my rent, causing my daily activities to lack interest. I don’t have time to practice my drawing skills. Someone recently asked me, "What are your hobbies?" I responded with a blank stare. At twenty years old, she had to explain to me what a hobby is. We are trained to answer this question our whole life. If you asked me when I was twelve, I would have too many answers to decide between. I now can not come up with one single hobby. Once the stranger finished explaining hobbies to me while I stared at her blankly, I landed on watching reality television. Television. Television is my hobby?
My dusty art supplies would laugh at the idea of telling someone my favorite hobby today is drawing. I was titled, “the artist of the family,” early on in life. To this day, I am still gifted an art supply from family members every holiday. I used to be ecstatic for a new tool added to the collection. Now, I'm met with a melancholy feeling of losing myself. Every activity I used to do, I have an excuse for why I can't do it anymore. I can’t pick up a drawing class for fun because I'm fighting to fit everything in my schedule to graduate on time. My classes I take feel meaningless, causing my mind to spiral if I am passionate about my degree. With the daunting stress of finding a job post graduation, I fear I will not find something I am passionate about.
I am in my burnt-out-college-student era. I have talked to many friends that share a similar feeling. The harsh reality of adulthood is hitting me. My free time feels less and less, and the ease of letting go of old passions for life responsibilities has taken over. I am no longer disciplined to work on art for an hour every-day. My art supplies are not carried with me everywhere I go anymore. Recently, my friend picked up an old hobby, and seeing her joy and excitement was refreshing. It showed me the importance of reconnecting to old hobbies. I went to research the benefits of finding hobbies in adulthood. Besides the obvious benefit of improving mental health, one common theme stood out to me. Hobbies can help one find purpose. In a period of constantly being asked, “What do you want to do with your life?” I feel so lost. I need a break from trying to get the best grades to finding the perfect internship. I want to find what excites me, but I am putting too much pressure on myself to find that purpose. Reconnecting with an old hobby I once loved might be the perfect stress free activity that gives me some clarity.
In order to pursue drawing again, I need to activate my inner child. Children have a willingness to draw outside of the lines. Their imagination is endless. I should not focus on making the most intricate and skillful piece. My dusty colored pencils don’t have any expectations of my creations. I struggle with social comparison, never feeling good enough when I compare my talents to others. I stare at my multitude of Lady Gaga artworks hung in my room. I miss the girl who was adamant about drawing Lady Gaga for every art assignment and at home project, simply because she loved her. I am so focused on finding a creative idea it stops me from picking up my colored pencils. They get dustier and dustier. Maybe that is my issue with finding purpose post graduation.
I need to let go. I need to pick up my colored pencils again.