What happens after a long hiatus away from painting?

It had been awhile.

I had started a new job in the city, and the hours were totally brutal. 13-hour days, 5 days a week.

Sure, it helped me pay off that final $10K+ in credit card debt. That's why I did it.

But in four months of working there, I had painted only twice.

Meanwhile, remember when I said that painting is my medicine? Yeah, imagine four months without medicine.

My soul was aching.

And before you call me melodramatic, that was me being understated.

So what happened when, after months of not painting, I sat down on the floor to paint again?

“I’d love to tell you that it came easily, that the brushstrokes flowed out of me as easily as if I were bleeding. It didn’t.”

I'd love to tell you that it came easily, that the brushstrokes flowed out of me as easily as if I were bleeding. It didn't.

My style had inexplicably changed. My approach was fuzzy. My intuition, muddled. My brushstrokes, sloppy.

I was overthinking. And overthinking is the death of what may otherwise be a great painting.

Since then, I have found my flow again. I have stilled that critical and uncertain voice in my brain.

I have re-discovered confidence and competence in my painting.

“I was overthinking. And overthinking is the death of what may otherwise be a great painting.”

But I often have artists come up to me and say that they "used to paint," but that now it's "been too long." They're intimidated, overwhelmed and terrified to go back.

Let me tell you: I understand. I've been there myself.

They tell me that the paintbrushes feel heavy and the blank canvas is threatening. 

“When we avoid the things we fear, the things we fear only become scarier.”

I always try to encourage them to pick up the brushes and paint again. the first few paintings back will be rusty. That's natural.

But when we avoid the things we fear, the things we fear only become scarier.

TRISHA WILES