The whole thing begins innocently enough. Easy as liquid clay sliding into a mould.
You get a job offer and ~ what the hell ~ a girl’s gotta eat, right? You won’t be a real office worker, you’ll just pretend while you’re waiting for your big break. Post a Mary Oliver poem on your cubicle wall and enjoy the free Perrier and stock options.
These lovely people want you on their committee, and it’s such a good cause, and you’re very good at taking minutes/running meetings/organizing fundraisers. A three-year term doesn’t sound so bad.
Hey, look at all the clients who want to pay you to help them! You’ll just do this one job. Which leads to another. And who would turn down work these days?
At first it feels good. Look at you adapting, accommodating. You’re slick and fluid and so multi-talented you can do anything you put your mind to. People admire and compliment and thank you and ask for more.
Then one day you look around and realize the life’s been sucked out of you. You try to make a move and everything’s hardened. The mould that looked attractive and temporary at first has imprisoned you in such a contorted shape that you can hardly remember who you really are.
Remember ~ and affirm ~ that you are a writer, an artist, so you can break out of that restrictive life that doesn’t fit you.
Claiming Your Artistic License is an audio class and set of worksheets that remind you of your undeniable nature as a creator. When you register for my email list, you get instant access to this class so you can give yourself permission for a lifetime commitment to art.