Follow Your Dreams - part two

Part two is another take on the expression “follow your dreams” combined with that patronising comment your mom would always make when you copied your friend: “would you jump off a cliff if she did it?”

If we have the same dream as a friend, family member or spouse, then is it really our dream? Are we allowed to share a dream? Are we allowed to follow other people’s dreams? What if we followed them and they didn’t come with us? How important is it to follow our own dreams?

I’m sure we would all say that we would trust our own instincts and ignore what people thought if our dreams took us somewhere that others didn’t agree with, but when I think about all the important decisions I’ve ever made, I have always asked and listened to other people’s advice. I’m not sure that anything I have ever done has been 100% my own thought, followed by my own actions, resulting in my own outcome.

I’m pretty sure when I went to university that it wasn’t my own decision. I was influenced by my family, staff at the college and the pressure of society’s expectations of what someone my age “should” be doing. When I look back I don’t know why I didn’t listen to myself and stay on at the college, instead I went to university, hated it, dropped out after six months and ended up going back to college anyway and feeling like I’d lost a year.

In the drawing, the dreams are jumping off a cliff; we’ve been told to follow them but this doesn’t seem right… What if our dreams took us somewhere that we didn’t want to go? Then what? Would we give up on them? Are we allowed to give up on them? Would we change them? But surely if we change them then are they still our dreams? Are we changing them to suit us or to suit other people or to suit society’s expectations?

What if we did follow our dreams and we didn’t like the end results? What if we had an idea, made a plan, followed the plan and then at the end, it wasn’t what we expected or what we wanted and we weren’t happy? What then? Do we then create another dream? Will we always be chasing and changing dreams? How many dreams are we allowed to have? Do we have to chase all of them?

How do we even follow our dreams? So many questions! Feel free to comment with your thoughts and I might even do a drawing about them…

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Follow Your Dreams - part one

I often use text in my artwork and I have always been interested in exploring the use and interpretation of different words and expressions. “Follow Your Dreams” is the first in its series where this title means more than one thing.

The expression “follow your dreams” normally means to chase your aspirations or to pursue a career or hobby, but in my drawing I have interpreted it as to physically follow them in a very stereotypical private investigator style.

Obviously dreams aren’t a physical being that can be followed by another person but I liked the idea of the drawing. Please let me know your thoughts and look out for the rest of the series!

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ZMR

“ZMR” is an abbreviation for Zeus, Murphy and Ruby (right to left in the drawing), they are my auntie’s three dogs that I have been looking after for two weeks whilst she’s been on holiday. But this is about more than the dogs.

I’ve looked after them countless times before but this is the first time in their new house in the middle of nowhere. I thought that being isolated from everything and everyone would be depressing, but I’ve surprised myself. I normally hate being on my own but the past two weeks have been incredible.

The house is a lovely (and rather large) cottage situated next to the canal, overlooking fast countryside with an amazing 360 garden. Every day the cows and the calves in the field next to us come within reaching distance to the fence, Green Woodpeckers hop around the garden and you can’t hear anything apart from the birds, it’s like a Disney film.

I’ve got into a routine everyday of getting up, feeding the dogs, cat and guinea pigs, walking the dogs, going to work, coming back and repeating the same. I thought it would be tedious but I am going to be really sad to leave.

Recently I had a conversation with a friend about how some people cross metaphorical bridges in their lives and maybe I’ve crossed another one where I am totally a peace with being on my own. I suppose you could argue that I’m not alone because of the dogs, but I could happily do this for the rest of my life.

I am now worried that when I return to my two bedroom dog-less apartment I will feel claustrophobic and bored!

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Tangled

Recently an old friend came back into my life and I also had the pleasure of meeting and getting to know her boyfriend.

We were best friends throughout middle school but we drifted apart after that. Words can’t explain how happy I am to have her back in my life now (and him) and I hope it stays that way.

At a recent event that all three of us went to, I was told about how the couple first met and a scene from the Disney film “Tangled” was described in the way that she talked to him (hence the head on hands adoring gaze position).

Both families (his and hers) were also at the event, which is such a rare occasion in today's world, it was so refreshing to see two families come together and get along. I’m so glad I was a part of it, it made me feel so content to see something so simple yet beautiful. I really appreciated being invited, reuniting with her family as well as getting to meet his, everyone was so lovely.

To my old friend (and new my friend), I hope you like this drawing of you both and I hope that there will be more nights like Saturday.

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Pizza Face

I’m not sure if this is just an expression that only my Dad uses or if anyone else has ever heard of it, but it’s what he says when he’s talking about someone with bad skin, i.e. me.

I had perfect skin up until my twenties, but then puberty decided that it wanted to screw me all over again. I’ve taken medication before which helped but unfortunately the side effects posed worse health issues and alternative methods have failed since.

Anyone who has bad skin knows the feeling; you can’t hide it because it’s on the one part of your body which is visible to everyone, all the time. It makes me feel so ugly and worst of all, immature. It’s embarrassing being 26 but looking like a teenager. I feel like spots are for younger people and that I will get treated like a child because I look like one.

It was bad enough suffering from eczema for years but at least it wasn’t on my face! Sigh.

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Last Chance Saloon

My relationship with art has been long, drawn out and complicated. Some of you reading this might already know about my background but for those who don’t, it goes something a bit like this.

From as far back as I can remember I have always wanted to be an artist but I was slapped in the face by reality on several occasions whilst growing up, telling me to get a job, earn money, live in the real world, yakkedy yakk.

I loved and studied art all the way up until university. When I got there I hated it there for some reason. I’m not sure if it’s because I had thrown my soul into everything in the previous years and totally burnt out by the time I got there or because I was out of my comfort zone and hated being isolated from my family and friends. There was no atmosphere, no stimulation, so I dropped out and fell out with art. I worked for an IT company to earn some money whilst I was out of love but the break made me realise that I missed it, so I went back to college.

The course was part time so I was also volunteering for a charity and at the end of my course I was offered a paid role. I was supposed to go into my final year studying but I worked so hard that I burnt out, again, and fell out of love, again. I did however love the job and thought it would be a better career choice. So, once again, I gave up and went to work.

After that I pretty much stopped drawing altogether, made excuses that I didn’t have time or that it wasn’t for me anymore. I’ve changed jobs twice since then, moved into my own place, become an “adult”. I thought I was set but one day I woke up with a big hole in my heart and I knew I had to try again. This time I’m determined not to give up. I’ve decided that this is my last chance to do something. I’m not sure what yet but all I know is that I love art and I want to draw and share it with you.

P.S. I don’t dress like a cowgirl (regularly).

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