A matter of unlearning

I have one memory of kindergarten. Our classroom had a table with low rims, and it was filled with clay. You could create whatever you wanted. It was my idea of heaven.

My memory doesn’t consist of an event, it’s more of a feeling of frustration. Every time the teacher asked us to concentrate on the topic of the day, I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t aloud to play with clay all day, every day.

When I think about it, I’m kind of proud of that frustrated little girl. She knew what it was all about for her. The process of teaching children that art is not an option for the future had already started. And it would get a lot worse, for a long time.

It took me almost four decades to reconnect with the little girl that only wanted to create. We often think we have to learn news skills to become who we want to be and get the life that would make us happy, but actually it’s a matter of unlearning the things that don’t serve our purpose. My purpose is to create, and deep down inside of me there’s a little girl celebrating the direction my life has taken lately.