On Art, Emotion, and My Early Twenties

It's true what they say about finding yourself in college. In high school, you think you know who you are, but you are mistaken. You try on some hats and some of them fit and some of them don't but even the ones that fit wear down after a while. College is where you learn that you don't need a hat. That everyone has bad hair days and it's best not to hide from them.

I'm a natural procrastinator and I definitely waited until the last minute to really start soul searching. I spent my first two years trying (unsuccessfully) to fit in with the crowd and dress, talk, and act like everyone else around me, but that soon became exhausting. Right before my junior year, I had a rough breakup and met a guy (with whom I would have an even worse breakup) who really pushed me to find my true self. I'm pretty sure that's the only positive impact he had on my life. But we won't go there tonight.

My junior year in college is when I began to question everything I thought I knew about myself. Do I really want to continue in music? Is there something better out there? Can I do more? Am I just stuck here forever?? And the seeming finality of my music education degree coming to a close suffocated me until I decided that I had to take a break from it and experience new things. Different things. I'd been a music freak my entire life. I liked my music hat, but the colors had faded.

In the spring of my first Senior year, I did not enroll in classes. I began to paint periodically. I'd paint things for my boyfriend to hang on the walls of his apartment. I even sponge painted his bedroom wall (and it looked AWESOME). The painting was therapeutic for me. There were a lot going on in my life that were not pleasant but I could escape all of that by listening to Jaymay or Brandi Carlile or The Rocket Summer and gently stroking my weary soul with the soft bristles of a paintbrush. It's nice to let your emotions course through your blood, letting your body release everything for a moment.

Our breakup was life-changing. It is the most difficult thing I have experienced so far. But it led me to my real passion for music: Songwriting. I wrote so much music. I experienced a variety of emotions, but mostly sadness, confusion, and anger. I find it hard to describe my music for some reason. Songwriting is such an intimate experience for me. I get real with myself. I examine and reexamine until I can get the exact words to match the way I feel. This intimacy gives me a deep emotional connection to my music. It's just so real. That summer I also enrolled in a drawing class at my local community college where I learned that I can actually make a decent drawing, and this soon became another form of artistic therapy.

The most intense art therapy session occurred while I was driving around central and north Texas taking landscape photos for my photography class. The week before had been rough. I had been struggling with letting something go and I just felt low every day. I was afraid that I was falling back into the pit that I had been working so hard to escape. On the way to Dallas, I saw an exit for Bear Creek Road. One of my favorite albums is Brandi Carlile's Bear Creek, so I decided to throw that album on and see where Bear Creek Road would lead me. I ended up discovering this beautiful nature reserve and getting some nice shots. Since I wasn't ready to go home and face my issues, I decided to take myself on a date to one of my favorite spots in Dallas, a local diner called Café Brasil. I ordered my bottomless coffee and migas just as always and I sat and I thought and I hung out with myself for the evening. During this time with myself, I discovered the answer to my dilemma. I enjoy being on my own. This reasoning may be selfish, but when I'm on my own, I don't have to answer to anyone or worry so much about hurting someone's feelings by doing what I want to do. As I sat alone in a Café on a Saturday night, I liked myself for the first time in years.

There's something about creating that makes me feel like I'm truly in my element. I can't thrive in an environment that doesn't allow for creativity. And that's where my problem with music education lies. I'm only saying this as a fact about myself; I know things are different for everyone, but I don't feel as though I have the creative freedom to really feel fulfilled. Education is a wonderful thing and I know so many people who do feel fulfilled through teaching and that is beautiful. Those people are beautiful and should be given much more appreciation and recognition than they receive. I, however, am not one of those people.

When I told my family that I want to move to Nashville after graduation and become a "professional hobbyist" (as I like to call it), they weren't thrilled. They don't understand that I need to have the freedom to express myself through different forms of art. They worry that I'll end up broke and homeless, and that's a valid concern, but I can't imagine doing the exact same thing day after day. That's how school became such a burden for me. Too much time doing things for everyone else and no time to take care of myself. I'm going to Nashville and I'm going to write my music, make my paintings, and take my photos and hope that by taking care of myself, I can share my creations with others and help them take care of themselves. It just feels right.



Just a side note:
I wish music wasn't such an isolated community here at Baylor. I don't know how it is in other places, but I wish there were more opportunities to be creative in different ways. I get bored and exhausted when I focus on one thing for too long. And all art is connected. The same concepts are used in each discipline, each in its own, unique way. That's fascinating. I feel like that should be the basis for community, but instead, there's a separation and a lack of knowledge and understanding, which is unfortunate.