Embracing My Inner Bohemian

I love sunflowers, yellow roses and a lot of colour… is that bohemian?

I assumed the artistic gene passed by me and went straight to my sister, she is very creative. I remember vividly the distinct odour from oil paints, mixed with the background sounds of a sewing machine and woodworking tools. These are the memories of my home growing up.

My mother always told me I was a free spirit. Perhaps I was born a decade too late, I could easily have been a flower child. I see myself in a long skirt, twirling in the wind, proud of the handmade flower wreath in my hair.

My mother was a wonderful artist, her specialty was landscapes with oil paints. My father was a carpenter, always working on his latest creation. As much as I was proud of, and admired their talent, it isn’t something I gave a second thought to. They were just my parents, you know… a typical day.

I eventually became a grown-up and was busy with my husband, my children, and my career. Art wasn’t at the forefront of my thoughts, and I lived a relatively structured life. However, a small hint of rebellion existed within; a disdain for formality, pretentiousness and a rigidly structured life. I believed in taking our children out of school for an educational holiday abroad. I believed in self-declared snow days. I savoured quality friendships over quantity, or fancy and fake.

As years passed by, with an imminent empty nest shadowing the corners of my home I subconsciously stumbled into a different ‘me’. One who fully embraces those beliefs and does not need to adhere to certain societal rules or fancy friends.

I now enjoy time alone, obsessing over colour, fabric, textures and pottery. I fawn over pretty much anything and everything aesthetically pleasing. I love what my daughter coins ‘all my activities’. These new activities make me happier than what may seem reasonably sane.

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I’m now allowing the love of colour to enhance who I am. Colour is essentially my world, without it, my life would be beige.

The creativity within is new to me. Throughout the years I have slowly evolved into a different person. Who is this ethereal, unostentatious woman sitting at home contently weaving a rug?

Slowly I’m beginning to recognize this individual as myself.

I see myself embracing freedom and non-conformity, rebelling against archaic traditions; societal, religious, and marital even. I dance my way to the beat of my own bongo drums.

Photo by author, A yellow rose from my garden

I embrace arts, nature and colour. I embrace simplicity in life, yet maximalism in my home because no… you really can’t have too many animal trinkets, paints, canvases, books or colours!

My inner bohemian has filled the room with paints and canvases; wool for rug-making and fabric — just for its sheer beauty. Every artist needs a studio, my home is my studio. My life is the canvas of bold colours I create daily. I have decided to embrace this new me. My inner bohemian has consumed who I am, and who I’ve become.

I create because it’s in me. And now my children have grown and proudly admire my paintings and creativity. The cycle of life continues.

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This post was previously published on Modern Women.

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