On Mindfulness

I paint pictures. Does it make me an artist? I don’t know. I would like to be one, because I am in awe for art. Art stops me; makes me turn my head and be curious. To be an artist one needs creativity, talents, skill and imagination. Every child owns it, but it is harder for adults.

In front of every piece of work I make stands a big, skeptical Critic. This guy is magnificent in finding faults, mistakes and errors in my work; his main occupation is simply to criticize me, to make me feel doubts, insecurity and limitations. He can speak through other people but his favorite location is actually in my own head, on my mind. In order to negotiate my right to be an artist I am in constant dialog with this guy justifying and explaining almost every stroke of brush, every stain of paint and asking for approval. But the Critic is never satisfied and is just growing bigger, stronger and more vindictive.


I started my training in meditation and mindfulness because I wanted to learn how to switch off this nagging voice, how to disconnect from the constant intellectual judgment and criticism that was suffocating me and how to stay with the experience, playfulness and joy of painting. It is getting better every day. The Critic is growing obedient and keeps quiet oftener. He doesn’t like meditation, but I DO.