I walk into my late grandfather’s home atelier. I see people conversing. I watch them as they carefully select the paintings they will remember him by. Alone I roam the open white space, once private and forbidden to enter, and I feel uncomfortable and out of place in my mother’s father’s domain. I can feel his energy. His creative sense, unpredictable and elusive. I feel it rise and ripple through my body, right through to the surface and I choke. I numb. I freeze for feeling the energy of my grandfather…
I feared not him, but the creative power I felt.
This memory came to me when, the other day, my mother gifted me a horsehair brush. It travelled from my childhood home, by plane and in the suitcase of her best friend, to Bali. When she asked me if I wanted anything from the Netherlands I told her ‘nothing’. All I need is here, I said. But generous as she is stubborn she, nevertheless, sent me a gift. And - you might think - off all the things she could have sent you Nick (Dutch cheese? Chocolate sprinkles? Liquorice? Cosmetics not available here?), she chose to send you a paint brush? Yes, and I couldn’t have been more thrilled to unpack the gift-wrapped oblong item and see a paint brush; it smelled of paint. Faint, but present. It smelled of him. My grandfather. Of his Atelier. Of his home, and to me this smell felt like homecoming.
Cause, you see..
My grandfather was an abstract painter
My grandmother was an arts teacher
Her father was a still life painter
My father is an adept fine-art photographer
My mother is an accomplished fashion designer
And me?
Long I denied my descent. I denied the artistic gifts’s descended down this lineage. My lineage. I denied to be a descendant of artists. I shied away from creativity. I shied for creating. I shied from crafting. I was afraid for the blood running through my veins. I refrained from acknowledging this bloodline. My bloodline. And I placed the creative side to me in restraint. This chaos within me, and over-controlled this uncontrollable force. If you read my post ‘into trust…”’you know I have a tendency to control all things uncontrollable. Its my pattern to avoid hurt. This year I started a journey intro trusting more.
Over the last one-and-a-half years, however, I started to unwrap this gift given to me. This present, thickly wrapped in layers of impenetrable paper and sealed with strings of constraint. I saw the need to free this side to me. To unleash the chaos lashing and lacerating at the layers of control. And I chose to free it. Reel it in. Reign it in and tame it (see my post ‘Sacral Jazz, a poem’ to soak in some of my creative chaos. Its jazz!). It was during this time I went through challenges chosen by me. I worked on myself, to become a better man, but more to free myself from restraint and to allow all sides of me to flow freely. I released chaos and as result set free my creativity. That innate ability, passed down in blood, to create and be a creator.
So when I held in hand the paint brush left by my grandfather, I was moved. Not only because I was given this heirloom; not only because though strange a gift it was most caring and considerate of my mother to sent it to me; not only because the timing of its receiving was proper and perfect..but also, because I felt the energy of my grandfather surging through it and
I did not freeze nor feared for its existence.
And so holding it tightly in my hands I knew I was more free. I was more in tune with this side of me and more attuned to the chaos residing within me. It made me realise I have come far in my journey to being me and being free. For real. As you probably know by now I am currently creating my truest and most authentic expression. I have started showing my truth through expression. I have started to speak my truth in all aligned and possible ways; poetry, writing, painting, prose..everything! And sharing this truth, my creativity and creations with you, has been most liberating. Its been a gift to unwrap and unravel myself before you. I will continue. For sure. For real. Really. And I couldn’t be more excited to show you more, more of my creations and all sides to me. So stay tuned.. I value your support and you subscribing to my channel!
It’s honour to share myself with you!
Salut, yours truly,
Nick
PS: the picture accompanying this post is a painting I painted with the paint brush I spoke and wrote about. I feel his, my grandfather’s, energy when I paint with it. It is his energy. It is my energy. Like the words I wrote today. It’s all energy. (Further down the line I will definitely post my perspective on energy!)
PS II: I painted this painting for my mother, as a gift for her birthday, and sent it home to her.
Impressive. I do like the post, and do recognize your family ties and your attached feeling. Continue in doing this great work Nick.
💜 Thank you for sharing.