Hardly a love story between him and I, but the date was the beginning of a love story I would soon create with myself, but I didn’t know it walking into that ordinary night, at that ordinary, mediocre restaurant - to meet a man I hardly knew and would never kiss.

In September of 2020 I sat across the table from Nick at a mediocre Mexican restaurant in my neighborhood of Astoria, Queens. It was our second date and not much about the food was memorable, but our conversation was and, if I’m being honest, so were his eyes. Slice up the cheese. Hardly a love story between him and I, but the date was the beginning of a love story I would soon create with myself, but I didn’t know it walking into that ordinary night, at that ordinary, mediocre restaurant - to meet a man I hardly knew and would never kiss. The evening with Nick stayed with me for years, and I would be lying if I didn’t admit that meeting him, even if fleeting, made me think a lot about life, creativity, love and our needs as humans. These thoughts spanned well beyond our meeting and I do still think of him today because our conversations often made me think about what we hide, the darkest parts of ourselves, what we choose to reveal, and what we dare not show others because we’re afraid of being judged, unlovable or, conversely, unstoppable.

Nick and I met on Bumble while I was bumbling my way through online dating apps, while fumbling my way through work and life. Fun. Dating and remote working during the pandemic proved to be a difficult feat which left me anxious and constantly doubting myself and my abilities. As if I didn’t already have doubts and issues with my confidence before. On that balmy September night, Nick dove right in an asked me questions about myself. Strange from a dude, I thought. And they were not just any questions, but questions about my choices, where I was, my past, my soul, and it was scary.

We talked about growing up Italian and our shared family dynamics of prosciutto eating, antipasto and completely and utterly inescapable loudness all of the time. His mom was a famous actress and mine a cashier. As it turns out, having a famous mom can also prove to be challenging too. That whole thing about the grass being greener is, in fact, very true. Besides, comparison is the death of joy. We learned our moms momm’ed the best they could much like any mom tries to do. We talked a lot about forgiveness and hurt feelings as a child, more therapy than date talk but I will never turn down a therapy session. Then, we head into current therapy territory - work. He had the nerve to asked me not only about my job but how I felt about my job. I will never forget my reply, which went along the lines of, “Yeah, it’s fine. I mean it pays well and I have time to cook. I can afford the things I want to do.” Not a glowing review in 3 very short and concise sentences. Clearly my relationship to work was one, in that moment, that kept me safe in life. Safe. At the time, it was my truth, and I wanted to feel safe after 3.5 years of having a business I loved but was too scared to really develop. Nick abruptly answered, “What are you stuffing down? What are you not doing?” I paused. I looked down at my lap, full knowing the evening before I ended my work day by tumbling onto my couch, eating cashews and cucumbers, watching Netflix and falling asleep. Insert drool. I wasn’t cooking a meal for myself. I was no longer writing food stories or recipes. I wasn’t even taking a bath to unwind. I wanted to not feel my day or life in between texting other online dates and calling that “my courage to show up.”

When he saw my paintings, read my writing and called me daily, he claimed I was a “creative supernova.” A supernova is the explosion of a star. It’s breathtaking. We’re all supernovas. These were words I didn’t believe at the time. But, today, they are words that I hold in my heart. A supernova is the explosion of a star. It’s fucking breathtaking. We’re all supernovas. We’re all one act of honesty away from being fucking breathtaking.

As an answer to his stuffing, I did not admit to my evening squirreling of cashews that I washed down with cucumbers for “balance.” I told Nick the other part of my truth. The truth of my heart - that I always wanted to write or do something creative, while I also shared my love for the health business I had and let slip away. He asked why I closed the health business and why I stopped writing; wherein I muttered something about not making enough money and a former Professor telling me my writing was too emotional and sensitive. He looked and listened with his eyes on me; men who try to make eye contact while therapizing you - hot but not. My eyes continually lowered, back to my hands on my lap, to avoid eye contact. And, since I don’t shut up, when I’m nervous I chat a lot and overshare (probably why these posts are so damn long), I let out another dirty secret. On my bookshelf sat a copy of The Artists Way. This damn book made it through 4 moves to 4 different apartments, over the course of 18 years. I admitted that I wanted to open it, but I was scared. He questioned me “Why are you holding yourself back?” So I did what any normal 40 year old woman being therapized by her date would do, I answered his question with a question, “You mean to tell me you’ve never held yourself back because you’ve been scared?” Silence. My eyes finally met his. Hazel broken glass stared back at me. You see, Nick was also an artist and his story is not mine to share, but as I got to know him, and even after we stopped talking, I learned he held himself back from living in so many ways. It broke my heart and I knew he was not mine to fix and I was not his to fix either.

While we were still talking to one another I started reading The Artists Way and to say it changed the way I thought of myself, work and creativity would be an understatement. If it weren’t for his scary stares, quizzical questions that evening, or our conversations throughout the first few weeks of me reading the book - I don’t know that I’d be here. When he saw my paintings, read my writing and called me daily, he claimed I was a “creative supernova.” A supernova is the explosion of a star. It’s breathtaking. We’re all supernovas. These were words I didn’t believe at the time. But, today, they are words that I hold in my heart. A supernova is the explosion of a star. It’s fucking breathtaking. We’re all supernovas. We’re all one act of honesty away from being fucking breathtaking. These were words I did not believe at the time. I couldn’t, I wasn’t ready. But, today, they are words that I hold, stacked in my heart - a love story to myself given to me by someone I knew for a few moments. Nick saw something in me and, even if it didn’t end well, I do believe we all meet with reason and purpose. It took a long time for me to get there because I’m pretty sure my journal pages after we stopped talking were angry and hate filled. Vulnerability can make us regret sharing, but with distance and time from any situation we quickly learn that expressing our truth is the only way to be free. What felt like pain and another relationship that wouldn’t be, a love that I would never have from a man, turned into a deeper look inside of myself, love and finding art.

*After Nick*, 6x9, watercolor on cotton paper
Tina Corrado, 2020

Now, the book …

For those of you who don’t know, The Artists Way is a 12 week adult creativity workbook designed with activities, questions, check-ins, the chance to finally date yourself and - yes - prayers - to guide you back toward your creative self. I am a self-confirmed nerd so you know I LOVE A WORKBOOK. And to my mumbo jumbo you might be saying “I’m not creative, I never was, this is not for me.” And I would then tell you in my own words what I distilled from the belief of Julia Cameron, the author of The Artists Way “We’re all creative. Creativity is not defined by being a writer, painter, or “artist.” Creativity is defined by living, the solutions we find in the mundane acts of existing, how we show up to ourselves, our family and friends. We are all creative beings.”

When I began reading The Artists Way I felt like an imposter in my own life. Digital News Project Manager by day, former Senior Graphics Design Producer, former NYC substitute teacher, former Health and Cooking Coach and life long anxious woman-child who was now trying to find her inner artist child? WTF? What was going to happen to me? I was stymied by my identities as I knew them, but I also always felt like life had to be more than a job title, anxious woman-child woes or what I considered to be my saddest fact of all … that I never had a boyfriend and I had never been in love.

The Artists Way creates a pathway to the higher self, not a job title. Julia Cameron beautifully weaves together her own story of creativity, others who have taken her course, quotes from writers and philosophers - to create a creativity workbook using various tools, questions and prompts to unblock your inner artist aka yourself and all your inner sludge and turmoil. Through a series of readings, questions and the two fundamental tools in the book (below), which will also require commitment and consistency, new parts of yourself will be revealed. It’s a journey worth taking if you’ve ever felt stuck, stifled or desired more from your evening routine than Netflix, snacks and scrolling. Get yourself an adult activity workbook that makes you work on your deep seeded complexes, fears, hopes and dreams. If nothing at all, you’ll be better for it, I promise.

In getting started you should know the process of finding anything in our lives, creativity or otherwise is not to be taken lightly. Like any desire to change, you’ll need to commit. When we want something, we cannot only desire it, discipline is required to show up consistently and in honor of ourselves. Then, with faith and belief, life or shit (choose your own adventure) begins to happen. New stories unfold and we discover something the concept of “beginning again.” Peel back those teary onion layer, friends. We’re here to grow and love and that’s exactly what happened to me in 12 weeks by doing what the book required of me.

There are two fundamental tools in the book, useful beyond the 12 weeks, that I still work with today.

***Morning Pages:*** Whip out your journal and get to writing and realness, friends. Haven’t pooped? Want to binge on cookies because Janey sent you another annoying email? Got a dastardly desire to cut bangs in the summer - even though you know it’s humid? Anything you can think of - from the ordinary, to the bizarre and the extraordinary is fair game and necessary when it comes to morning pages.

Morning Pages: Think Jack Kerouac stream of consciousness like mental meanderings that you rid from carrying daily life crap. This is to be viewed as a gift you give your mind and heart every single, solitary morning. Three pages, minimum, long hand writing, to dispel your most mundane thoughts to your greatest fears - which then turn into your truth, inspiration and dreams. Don’t worry, it’s a slow reveal. I wrote about my morning coffee for two weeks before I professed that I felt like a train wreck at work and in love. You too might write about your coffee, pooping, hating vegetables and cooking dinner for your grateful or ungrateful family. JUST WRITE AND KEEP WRITING EVERY DAY. The point is to empty your brain and use writing as a tool to facilitate that emptying. I’d been journaling for years before this so Morning Pages felt normal to my daily practice. What deepened this writing were the questions asked thought out each week/chapter of the book along with Artist Dates. And I’ll get into those now …

***The Artist Date:*** Go play with yourself, ok, not like that. Maybe like that. I mean, do what you’re comfortable with. The artist date is any experience in playfulness and unadulterated you time. No friends, lovers, partners, children - NADA. You. Do what makes you happy and that which makes you feel alive. Consider this a call to your inner child that stimulates your brain after a long week at the office or, if you’re already doing your art thing, an act that keeps you vibrant, inspired, and motivated.

The Artist Date: Your once weekly, 2 hour block of time to indulge, nurture, inspire, pamper, love up on and care for your inner artist, who I always referred to as, 9 year old Tina. Artist Dates are to be done completely alone. Consider them to be a debt of honor to yourself, not silly or not worth it - because then, you’re not invested. This is a chance to be alone without fear to walk, roam, visit a museum or antique shop, take yourself to a meal, do yoga, ANYTHING that makes your heart sing and soften. An adult playdate, that can be FREE, and does not involve consensual sex you may later regret. It’s a win win and a different kind of mood booster. I thought of it, and still think of Artist Dates as committing to loving myself more. Even after completing the book, I hold on to my Artist Dates because creating has become that important to me.

The Rest of the Process: First Things First

At first, morning pages may feel silly and even daunting, but don’t despair. Eventually you’ll grow accustomed to sitting your butt down first thing in the morning to write, and it’ll feel good to take the slop in your brain and leave it on a page. This will free up space in your mind to think more clearly about not only creating, but about your life. Scary and rewarding, people! And if you’re met with resistance, ie “this is stupid, I don’t want to write” or “this is dumb, I don’t want to go on an artist date with myself, I’d rather watch tv and eat cashews or hang out with friends” - um, your resistance is trying to teach you something. Listen up and buck up, kiddo, you’re in for a ride.

The Other Bits

You’re gonna feel uncomfortable getting to know yourself and thinking about your past because the book encourages you to name names and take no prisoners on your stifled artist / creator. I found out my biggest enemy was myself. Way to go, Tina! And, apart from creating, it was revealed that I dated and slept with men because I lacked confidence. Because instead of creating my life, I was in a perpetual state of trying to validate it … GOD HELP ME. There is also prayer and some talk about God, but don’t let that deter you. The book renewed my sense of faith that there is something and someone bigger than me out there - which is a good thing because if humans are the last stop on the train of life, I want to get off of the train now. Gimme a God or the universe any day. I’ll take a side of synchronicities and alignment too - because once you open up, you’ll have to watch out for those too.

What Did I Create?

I hadn’t picked up a paint brush in over 30 years, but I found myself drawn to painting. I didn’t paint from skill or craft, and I never took a class during the 12 weeks. I simply committed to painting almost daily. What came out were a lot of women’s bodies and boobs, which helped repair my relationship to myself and my body. Pretty cool, pretty unexpected. And I even started selling my artwork. Also unexpected. Then from there I managed to start creating a more open life. Day by day, more and more life creeps out of me and it creeps me out, but I don’t want it to stop. I’m still creating.

The Learnings

Beyond painting, The Artists Way questioned me and my life the way Nick did. I learned I was holding myself back from living a more fulfilling and creative life; that my only desire wasn’t to finally have my first boyfriend - but to live. For Tina. Not to take care of my family or to worry or work a corporate job, but to live the way I dreamed I could. It gave me courage. And I faltered. I did. I threw myself back into work and took a few giant steps back, but I got myself out of the rut by returning to what I learned … that only I can stop holding myself back from living and creating the life that I want. The learnings went well past making actual art - to making my life a work of art. Pretty cool. And, to this day, I’m still exploring what that looks like. I’m here now, writing and sharing so, theoretically, the book is still working its magic.

My Advice To You

If you’ve got a longing, a hankering beyond eating a hunk of cheese, a fear or a desire you have buried in cashews and Netflix, try this. Try it. No one has to know. You can even audiobook this business or download it on your Kindle. It’s an adult workbook that you can keep private, if you wish. Although, I always find sharing helpful for accountability. Morning pages can be completed in 30 minutes a day. I did the weekly reading in one night before bed and answered the questions in one night after work. So, you’re looking at 2 hours right there. I took myself on dates and learned to love myself more - tack on another 2 hours of joy. All in you’re looking at 7.5-8 hours (you know your iPhone tells you that you spend at least that much time on a screen in 1 week, don’t lie) of adult workbook better your life fun. It should be fun, when you’re not crying. I cried a little. Ok, a lot. Silver lining: Today I now know how to complete myself. Was it all the book? Well, I dunno, but it certainly made me think about how to really start living my life. And there is no worse case of the Sunday scary’s, being in a relationship on the brink of busting, waiting around for a 1st date to text you back - than not knowing how to love yourself. Find out sooner rather than later. It’ll be worth the work.

Thanks, Nick.

Thanks, Julia.

With love and gratitude,

Tina

The Artists Way: How A Boy + A Book Changed My Relationship to Myself