I was lucky enough to spend my Saturday, bumbling around the beauty that London has to offer. The sun was shining, laughter was in the air and hope was firmly in my heart.
My husband and I began our day exploring the Saatchi. This gallery will always hold a special place in my heart for it was the first exciting art gallery we ever visited with our school. It broke the bore that had always come with visiting the more classical exhibitions. There’s only so many times you can see a painting of a landscape (phenomenal or not) before you find yourself nodding off.
I’m a lover of all things conceptual. I think the over analytical aspect of my brain loves anything with a meaning. Any modern day art gallery is basically a paradise for those who love reading too deeply into everything – and, for once, rather than being a drama queen, you’re an artistic academic and a cultured connoisseur.
Following the completing of my art degree, I thoroughly fell out of love with art. Our lecturer once joked that many us of would be ready to divorce art after our three years was up, and I was ready to sign the papers. But, after a long breather and a dose of reality – it was nice to get back to something that had always been an integral part of my being.
After thoroughly enjoying immersing myself back into the realms of the art world. It was time to move on. Despite having grown up in London, I have never had any desire for any of the tourist attractions that London has to offer. To me, it isn’t real London. And whilst I admire the beauty and the history held in the iconic buildings and landmarks – it just doesn’t get my heart going. And what’s life, without passion?
Luckily, my husband had a wonderful little surprise in store. After a gruelling heat wave of a tube ride – we were transported from the riches of Sloane Square, to the quirkiness of Lambeth.
Keeping the art theme going, we arrived at Cafe Van Gogh. Not only was this place vegan, quirky and insta friendly – we were taking part in an art class (major brownie points).
Now, this is something I had always wanted to get involved in, but always been too scared too. When we joined the lovely lady and her eccentric friends down at the art table, I was smiling from ear to ear. All anxiety vanished away. How had I not done this sooner?
Now, obviously – my prior involvement in art and my love for it, played a major role in my enjoyment of the activity. I’m very aware I have the luxury of bias and experience on my side. But it really was a class that focused more on freedom and enjoyment, rather than talent and perfection.
I always fine I neglect taking up art as a hobby at home, due to the panic of “what shall I do?” Putting myself under the ridiculous self imposed pressure, that any project I take on must be perfect – must be something worthy of being hung in my house. How are you ever going to enjoy something, when you start to see it as a chore or a test of your own ability?
This was just a bunch of random Londoners, sitting on a table outside a church in the lovely evening warmth – quite frankly – playing about with some paint. And it was fab!
I didn’t make anything that’s going to be seen in the Louvre anytime soon, nor did I make anything I’d hang up in my own shed, let alone house. But I did enjoy taking part in something that will forever be a lovely memory. I did find myself rejuvenated from taking out a couple of hours from my day, to just be me. To explore something new. To give something a go. To have a laugh without fear of failure.
There really can be so much self care in just exploring. In welcoming the unknown. In just getting back to basics.
So whilst you don’t all have to hop on the tube or pick up a pencil, I hope you all take some time out of your day or week, to get back in touch with what makes you tick, without the fear of reaching perfection, finding yourself, or solving the worlds problems.
You’ll probably end up doing that anyway without even realising.
Peace out x