I have always fallen back on my creativity to survive. Not financially. I don't think I've ever made more than a couple hundred dollars and that was when I was making handmade, hand embroidered, beautiful rag dolls that took hours and hours to create then sell for less than thirty dollars.
My creativity has given me something positive to do when life is hard, or dull. I began by playing the piano. Some people listen to music, I prefer to make it. Making it uses my whole body, my head, my hands, even my feet. It is all engrossing to play a piece on the piano.
Later I taught myself to sew and I made clothes, dolls, costumes, gifts for teachers and family, even my children's clothes. I embroidered pillow slips for the dog and made doggie collars that looked like bows.
I began painting. I painted character sweatshirts for the people in plays we were doing, wooden projects my husband hand crafted, and finally I made a foray into oils. This time I had a teacher, but I didn't really get into painting until this last year or so when I began painting for me.
I have no formal training for this painting I do now. I would call it primitive. I paint from my heart, only those things I truly love to look at and, at my son's insistence, I hang most of them on a wall in my bedroom where I can sit and just enjoy the way they look. I have given a few away to family members, but there are a few I will always keep for just me. It you look at my wall you can see exactly who I am.
And beneath that wall of paintings is a keyboard.
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