The above creation (which, before you comment, I happen to like) is called Garden of Graffiti. You would not believe the process, or layers of paint, this canvas has endured.
Layer 1: A beautiful sunny day in the garden with my children, splotches of colour thrown down in a frenzy that very much contrasted the lazy afternoon. The sun got hotter, the children louder, my serenity fought with the chaos for a chance to create something beautiful. Distractions took their toll on my artfully placed splotches, drying them before they were masterfully blended, the end result was a garden of disaster. Quite honestly it was the most unattractive piece of art I have ever witnessed, let alone created. I cringed a little before reflecting on the process. My first thought was "I must fix this". Not my finest moment of psychological awareness, but there you have it, my preconditioned response was "I've done something wrong here, I've failed art 101 and I must repair the damage". Then, my true insights kicked in when I saw my daughters creation. I'd given her a box to paint that had once housed our groceries, and I noticed her simple but beautiful flowers (amidst a dinosaur or two) and I thought "that was a beautiful afternoon with my two beautiful creations" (clearly not counting my canvas creation).
Layer 2. Out come the spray cans, not quite a white slate but my inner rebel loves the dichotomous 'control yet out of control' feeling of a spray can. It's all to do with the pressure applied, though sometimes the valve gets blocked and the next spray unleashes unintended chaos. So, read into that what you will.
I added some pale pink circles, smooth and calm. Followed by purple ovals, that felt so out of character. Then fluoro pink spray paint. Without going too far into the self reflective component of this 'art therapy', the fluoro pink signified a new found 'boldness', almost a confidence in the chaos.
Layer 3. I thought to myself, this art is too clean, and right now, life is not clean. How could it be with two kids, a business, study and the rest. "So lets mess this up" I grabbed a small jar of green material dye and took the canvas back out into the sunshine (autumn weather is truly sublime). I let loose with the dye, just pouring it on and watching the splatters cover the canvas (and my pavement). It was in that moment that I really let go. Felt free in the chaos that is life and allowed the garden to blossom. The rest is history. Each day I add a little more and hope that I don't add just a little too much.
So, what am I saying here? Can you read between the lines, can you image what the metaphors for my life might be? Better yet, could you create something and then spend a moment contemplating the metaphors for your life? Could you awaken just a little more through some form of art? I dare you.