Playing God

painting-1067686_1920.jpgI’m a terrible painter. Or, maybe I’m not. I’m really not sure, but I am certain I won’t be winning any awards. I’ve never taken a class, I couldn’t tell you what delineates a classical artist from a regular old artist, and I have to admit I’m not all that moved by Picasso.

But I love art. I love the art that I love and I love that because it’s art, it doesn’t matter why and the only judgement that matters is whether or not I want it in my home. I love being moved by art. I love the way my heart flutters when my friends (who are bona fide artists) share a piece of work with me. I love the way simple streaks of certain colors make me feel something. Or particular shapes. I once walked very slowly around a bronze sculpture of a dancing couple at least three times, utterly mesmerized by the movement, the texture, the intensity of emotion even when there were no faces. I’d have paid everything I had in my bank account at the time to take that piece of work home with me.

I had the thought a while back that art is god. I don’t mean, you know, GOD… but perhaps the closest manifestation humans will ever get to god-force energy. After all, God as defined by traditional religion would include the action of creation. The creator of all things. THE creator.

Maybe that’s why, when I feel disconnected and wrong, or when I feel lost and alone, or when I feel like the world is the scariest place I could ever imagine… I paint. Or write. Or draw. Or decorate. Or glue pennies to a table. I feel like I can get out of my head and out of my body and empty myself. I can imagine my arms or legs or fingers or whatever just floating free, at the whim of the universal force of creation, like clumsy, fleshy paintbrushes. And in those moments I experience myself differently, I experience LIFE differently.

Maybe in the act of creation I’m getting as close as I ever will be (well, except for that time when I was dead for a couple minutes) to the god-force that lives in me. (It lives in you too, by the way, at least as far as I’m concerned.)

So maybe we should all take a little more time in our lives to play god. To create. Anything. Dried pasta glued to paper, music, paint spatters, pet rocks with googly eyes, sparkle tipped pine cones, cakes that taste like toothpaste… anything.

Create – because that’s when you’re closest to god. Create badly. Create messily. Just create, and set your god-self free.

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