Dream A Little Dream...
Last month, at almost 40 years old, I held my first solo art exhibition of my career. It was surreal. Like a dream. What’s even more, this show is all about the loss of someone dear to me, and the ways this person continues to shape my life even after death. I’d have never imagined that love and loss would have led me on such an extraordinary journey. Nor would I have ever imagined the ways it would change me.
I’ve dreamed of having an art show for as long as I can remember. In third grade, I practiced my signature over and over in my school notebooks. I knew I needed to have a good signature to be an artist one day. I made art every day as a kid, and loved it immensely. At the show’s opening night, my eyes fell to that third grade signature, repeated on each piece of art down the wall. “Can you even BELIEVE IT?” I said to myself, “After all these years, we’re finally HERE.” And so we were… the 39 year old me and the third grade me - just standing side by side, in total awe that somehow, we had finally actually done this super cool thing we always dreamed of.
I’ve spent so many years with this dream on a shelf. For most of my twenties, I quit making art altogether. I went and got a sensible job and had an okay life, really… but there sat that little girl in me, on the sidelines, feeling like all her dreams were forgotten, and none of her ideas were important. Yearning for someone to believe in her. I wish I’d known then just how much I ignored her, but that’s how it happens sometimes.
Then came his death. Just before my 30th birthday, suddenly. It was a pain so big that it came exploding out of me in art. It never felt like a choice, expressing it just bled out of me in any form it could. And the very photographs that hung at this art show, were the ones from this time. Along with helping me heal, making art again also woke me up to see that the little girl in me was still there, and she is still dreaming. These past ten years have been a true journey of rediscovering all of her hopes, dreams, fears, and joys.
There have been plenty of small moments in life where I’ve felt I’ve done right by that little girl in me, but nothing has ever come close to how she felt standing in that room. For a little girl who grew up thinking she was always “too much” and needed to be smaller and quieter and less ambitious and more practical, this night was like setting her free. I don’t think she’s ever felt so loved, so listened to, so validated, or so fully herself. I’ll admit, it wasn’t only the world who made her small. I’ve spent most of my life limiting myself, and in turn her. I think this may have been the first moment in a very long time that she felt like I completely, 100% believed in her dreams and ideas. I always thought I believed in her, but I can see now, I’ve always followed her dreams with trepidation and a hint of doubt.
I’m not beating myself up about this… I know most of us struggle with self-limiting beliefs. Instead, I’m learning to love myself through those mistakes, fears, and imperfections - and in turn, loving that little girl in me better too. I have no doubt she needed this show to happen even more than me. And I’m certain that this one moment in time has shifted something so deep both for the kid in me, and the grown up. My heart feels more grounded than ever, and my eyes are curious for what’s to come next.
- With Love -
Sarah
