Creating art takes courage. And gifting it does, too.
Creativity takes courage.
—Henri Matisse
Crafting a card for my dear friend brought more angst than I anticipated. Blank pages offer limitless possibilities. And limitless is overwhelming.
She’s the kind of friend who genuinely cheerleads you in every circumstance no matter how minute the achievement or effort, the kind of friend who knows what to say and how to say it so perfectly that I question which of us spent our entire career in communications and public relations.
No matter my effort or ability, I knew straightaway that she’d adore whatever I made because that’s just how she rolls.
I wanted her to feel special. Loved. Surely spending an afternoon creating the card showed more love than spending a moment purchasing a card. Of course, she’d gush about any card I give and even make me feel special for simply having chosen the card. As if that’s a super power.
I’ve created art before. But giving art is not easy for me.
Still, at some point, us students must share our creations no matter how anxious it makes us feel. I think the internet is more full of pleads for aspiring artists to embrace our art and talent no matter our abilities than there are instructions on how to create art in the first place. Apparently, no new artist feels like one and so the experts direct us to proclaim ourselves artists and not care one iota of the world’s opinion.
Believe. You’ve got to believe in yourself, they say.
And share your creation with the world. In fact, be bold about it!
Does art exist if no one sees it?
Creations are meant to be shared. But I felt like a giddy kindergartener when she sent a picture of my card displayed on her shelf.
Her superpower is making me feel special.

The card I made my friend (top shelf, left) is displayed on her shelf.
Still, I feel vulnerable. Silly. Embarrassed, even. Especially because abstract art is so subjective.
At what point does the arrangement of torn paper, loose threads, and ephemera mean it’s art?
The only way to learn is to keep on trying. And sharing. And understanding that the genius lies in the heartfelt giving of our expressions with the knowledge that that is the extent of our responsibility.
All we can do is care until we give our art away. Anything after that is not for us to interpret or manage.
Here’s to creating and sharing our creations!
Love and light,
Deborah
6 comments
I love the card that you made me for my birthday last year! It was so beautiful, I left it up on our mantel for months.
Thank you, Emily. Your words definitely help grow my confidence. I hope the card always reminds you of how much we love you!🌷
Your card is beautiful and creative. I love the entire set up of your shelf.
Thank you so much, Sue! ~~ That shelf actually belongs to my dear friend. After she received my card, she displayed it on her shelf and then shared the picture with me.🩷 My goal was to make her feel special and she made *me* feel special.🌷
I love your art and save the cards you’ve made for me. You have always had a way of making something beautiful from nothing… so torn papers and strings would be no different. I love the colors you choose and seeing the evolution of your art and style. You are perfecting your craft and I certainly consider you an artist of many crafts.
Thank you with all my heart, Nicole❣️