One thing I have always tried to instil in my kids is confidence. In themselves, in their abilities and in their achievements. I think I have done okay with them, they all seem to have an innate belief in self and it shows in how they are going through their lives. Confidence doesn't necessarily equate to financial, emotional, physical, societal success but it gives almost ninety per cent of the push needed to get there.
I've often been given advice to help me on the way - be it to do with my writing endeavours or with my art and I feel guilty, almost all the time. Guilty because people seem to have this confidence in me to do well at these pursuits but I don't. I'm my own worst enemy. I think I'm doing well and I get a bit of a kick out of acknowledgement that someone actually thinks my work is good enough to want to buy it (a painting, for example) but that's as far as it goes. I kill myself every day. I kill my ability, I kill off my talent, I stifle it with excuses and feelings of inadequacy. There's no-one to blame but myself.
I wish I was one of those people who can stand there and loudly proclaim to the world that she is an artist - even though, truth be told, I am. I have the personality, some of the skill, the emotional need and the mental instability to want to paint every day.
I didn't think that I had the desire to write every day though but when I look at it closely, that's a lie too because I wriite every day. Most of the time it's diary entries, blog posts, notes to self in my notebook about 'books' I'm writing at the time. I'm the weird bird who sits outside school in my car, notebook on steering wheel, hastily jotting down reams of 'notes to self'' or story ideas, or research ideas ... where does all that get me?
I still haven't finished this damn book (the new novel that I set about writing towards the end of last year). I lose interest in my writing, I get bored of it, it doesn't thrill me - therefore, I don't believe it will stand a hope in hell's chance of thrilling anyone else and I give up or I 'shelve' it for later - which is a euphemism for eventually deleting the thing from the hard drive.
Or else, I paint.