Artist Dates

The Artist's Way has two requirements - write in your morning pages every day and go on an artist date, by yourself, once a week.

I am really consistent with writing my morning pages.  It is part of my daily routine.  I get up, shower, get dressed, prepare a cup of coffee, make my bed and write.  I find I enjoy filling three pages with no predetermined theme.  I just let my mind flow onto the paper, knowing that no one will ever read these pages and potentially judge me.  It gives me a chance to let go, and I never let go.

It is kind of freeing.

I also noticed patterns.  I write about some consistent issues in the course of my morning pages.  Issues I need to act on.  And my morning pages make me think of random memories I had buried long ago.  Things from my childhood.  Things from my teenage years.  Things from my years as a young adult.  People who dismiss and limit my attempts at creativity.  People who support me.  Fears and uncertainties.  Hopes and dreams.  My rambling turns into insight.

Too bad I haven't figured out how to do the artist date.

It is so hard to set aside time to do something that is just for me.  Other activities on my to do list always seem more important, more productive and a more appropriate use of my time.  Artist dates are hard because I am programmed to worry about what others will think about me.  It is difficult  to justify doing something creative or silly when I have so many other things on my list.  I have to run to the store first, or make dinner, or go to Pilates, or anything else that will help me avoid this assignment.

So strange.

You would think the artist date is the one thing it would be easy to do.  It should be fun, not stressful. I can come up with lots of great ideas - go to the zoo, go to the Botanic Gardens, go to the Butterfly Pavilion, go to the Adams County History Museum, to to the Molly Brown house, go on a hike, go out for breakfast, just go.  I live in Colorado.  The state is full of opportunities.  And artist dates don't have to be complicated.  They can be as simple as painting a picture, doing a craft project, wandering around my favorite store, buying an ice cream cone, listening to a record, taking a walk, enjoying a hot cup of coffee on the deck and simply soaking in the scenery.  Really, going on an artist date means doing anything that is fun just for the sake of fun.  

Why is that so hard?

My little artist is bored and forgotten.  All we ever do are things I was going to do anyway.  We join together in my avoidance activities.  Things like watching TV or Netflix (any program will do), reading a book, cooking dinner, listening to a podcast.  When we could be doing something, anything, that will make us both joyful.  I guess I need to think of my little artist as an actual person separate from myself.  Maybe then I would take better care of her.