I had the incredible opportunity recently to use my artistic voice by creating a large-scale chalk art piece for the grand opening of our town’s new cemetery, Gilbert Memorial Park. I had not created a piece quite so large before and had a heckuva time “scaling it up” in my head. Even though my friend gave me the dimensions of 4′ x 6′, I somehow pictured a chalkboard about the size of my largest one at home – 2′ x 3′. Half the size. Half.
Panic Sets In
It wasn’t until later when my husband gently took me by the shoulders and said, “Babe, do you realize just how big that is?? That’s a full sheet of plywood,” that I let it fully sink in. But I’m happy to say that I didn’t panic or have an anxiety attack or go into a Baskin Robbins ice cream coma.
Until the next day.
Thinking It Through
After Garret talked me down from the precipice I realized… it’s just bigger. I’ve done all of this before. I’ve recreated logos. I’ve created pieces onsite. I know what tools I need. I know the process.
It’s just bigger.
I got this.
And I just methodically went through the process one piece at a time.
My Heartistic Life
Somewhere about the fifth hour of this six-hour project, Garret had gone to get us some lunch and the cemetery had quieted down from a morning flurry of visitors and inspections. I sat quietly, alone, working on the leaves of the beautiful tree artwork they use for their logo, and my heart went still and my head stopped swirling. I stopped, looked across the green lawn and listened to the nearby water feature trickling quietly.
And my heart knew.
I was exactly where I was supposed to be doing exactly what I was meant to do. This was my artistic voice. I was completely at peace. I felt confident and grateful and humble and emotional. I stopped and took a quick selfie of myself at peace. That’s the feeling I want to remember next time someone asks, “Do you do artwork?”