OOh the irony...

I started my first ever life drawing class today and really enjoyed it. I am very much the amateur and will be for a long time but feel that everything I do with regards to art at the moment slowly chips away at the massive 'ART' rock, that one day might just be small enough for me to handle proficiently.

Since having children I have totally rediscovered my interest in the creative arts. It's as if, since around about the age of 18, that side of me has lain dormant, comatosed with nonsense such as anxiety, work and premium lager... I remember actively deciding that I no longer wished to be part of the art world, that it was pretentious and unrealistic. I realise now that it was more likely lack of self belief, a sort of creative inverted snobbery, that made me feel that way.

Having children has grounded me, challenged me and given me confidence. I am now absolutely desperate to immerse myself in arts, crafts, writing, literature.. I want a veritable tsunami of CULTURE to sweep me up, drown me in it and carry me off. However, conversely, having children means I have NO TIME to indulge myself in such whimsies.

When I had time, my head was in a booze trough 'living the life' and now I have the 'will' I'll just have to keep chipping away.