One of the things about being creatively minded, is that it does have a tendency to lull you into a false sense of ability.
On more occasions than I’ve kept count of, this ‘gift’ of a vivid imagination has convinced me that more things are good ideas, than actually are.
Last year, it persuaded me to enter ‘Portrait Artist of the Year’, even though my painting ability was, by all accounts, rusty!!
It has also lulled me into believing, in the past, that I’m a capable public speaker, even though my affinity for stopping breathing and passing out ultimately proved otherwise!
So far this year, the ‘good ideas’ have been trickling through with the same predictable regularity as ever. Among them - the decision to bring a 1970s typewriter back to life, spurred by the creative and meditative gains of an old-fashioned writing medium.
Unsurprisingly, in the case of the art competition, I didn’t get through, but I say this not from a place of modesty or self-pity, but rather from a standpoint of unfazed resignation, where disappointment is invariably always tempered by the distraction of the next big burgeoning idea.
You could say that, on the whole (and in spite of the fainting) this tendency for what some might class as ‘delusion’ has paid off more times that it has backfired.
After all, as one art-competition shaped door closes… a book-writing one opens, or at least it does in the part my brain where the charm offensive of ‘anything is possible’ seems to know no bounds!