"Extraordinary Endeavours with Scissors"

An artistic hobby using scissors you say? I'm not a hairdresser nor a fabric fanatic, although in primary school I did cut my hair to stick onto my handmade doll (and got caught by the principal when my friend and I were discarding the wool to the side and choosing real hair instead; not to mention we were secretly and hilariously hiding under the library table at the time), and I did make my own clothes once, but my hobby involves a passion that I've had long before I knew how to use real scissors.

As a child I had a magical and magnificent imagination. I could turn any random item or material into a piece of artwork. Life as I knew it WAS art. A conversation with a friend was a dialogue between two characters in a thrilling movie or on an epic quest. Singing in the bathtub or humming to myself in class felt like I was performing in front of an audience totally engrossed in my pre-mature and slightly melodic voice.

Going for a walk to the park with my mum and younger siblings felt like a long journey trekking from one side of the world to another, even though it was located only a few blocks from our house. The whole way I would see new sights I'd never seen before, and skip merrily with so much wonder and curiosity sprouting from the top of my little head. When we arrived, the park was cloaked with a filter that only I could see. I perceived everything around me as big and amazing. I lived in my own little bubble; in the realm of fairies, bright colours, and ecstatic joy. I was living a fantasy wherever I went! Right before my eyes life would form a path that lead me on an exciting and creative adventure. Playtime was ALL of the time

It meant that creativity was endless and the outcome was never the destination like it is in the adult world. The destination was actually the whole creation process. The making of the art was the place to be. I wasn't worried about how it would look afterwards or it not being "good enough." I was present every step of the way, and when the journey had come to an end, whether I was sewing a puppet or a pair of pants, or simply drawing mermaids on a sheet of paper, I was happy and so proud of my artwork. Creating art put a smile on my face and I beamed twinkling rainbows from my eyes. I believed that I could create anything. My special superpower was my imagination. When I was little I would observe the smallest of creatures in my proximity and take in all of my surroundings. I was inspired by nature; the bugs, spiderwebs, fallen leaves, and trees. I loved running back to the classroom to grab my sketchbook, and come back outside to sit on the grass and draw what I saw around me. I was the observer. I was the creator. I was a budding artist.

Although I had an obsession with watercolour paints and putting pencil to page sketching my parents, teachers, friends, objects, and natural environment, the one art form I loved from the very beginning was one that allowed me to express my thoughts and what I saw in a more tangible way. Not everyone can interpret your art the way you want them to, but they definitely can understand your words. At first I was intimidated by learning to write and spell, but eventually I got a hang of it. I wrote my stories in phonetics to begin with. I loved imagining the plot line in my mind and scrawling sentences over the lined paper in my school notebook. I was mesmerised by the process of my imagination forming into ink on the page. I spent hours writing, and expressing myself through the stories my wild mind would come up with. A waterfall of words would flow from my pen tip and cover pages upon pages of paper.

As I grew older, my parents would find me engrossed in my writing until late hours of the night. Often times they would come into my room to ask me to turn the light on when it was getting darker in the afternoons so that my eyes would stay protected, but my eagle eye focus was hard to break from. I would still be in the same position hours later, and the room would be ten times darker. So, you may be wondering, how do scissors have anything to do with writing? I did use scissors to cut up A4 paper I "borrowed" from my parents printer to stick together and make my own story books (I use quotations on "borrowed," because I would never return the paper once it was sticky taped together and transformed into a grade five reader level chapter book), but the scissors I want to talk about in this competition entry are not of the physical.

Are they metaphorical scissors? They certainly are imaginary scissors. Why? Why would I use imaginary scissors for my writing projects or any form of artwork for that matter? What use is something that can't cut the thing that needs cutting? Well, that's where the answer lies. These scissors do A LOT of cutting, but the trick is that you have to visualise them doing the cutting. The more important question is what ARE they cutting in the first place? You usually don't require scissors to write an essay or a plot for a story. The truth is, when we get older we form these beliefs around what we are capable of creating. I am no longer a small child who is free to roam around in her imagination all day. I got to a certain point when that kind of creativity was no longer permitted. I felt restricted by the rules and seriousness of meeting deadlines.

I am nineteen now, and I'm realising all of the ways that I still feel stuck. Looks like we need some glue remover for that, right? No, I need scissors for this job. The matter at hand is as simple as this- we tend to overcomplicate the most simplest things as we get older and obtain the more serious "adult" mentality. As I was saying, I have felt stuck, and it's my job to unstick myself so that my creativity can flow freely and un-prohibited like it did when I was a child, innocent in my nature. I must liberate myself from those limiting beliefs that convinced me that my creative expression wasn't "allowed" to be naturally as it is. I must cut through the resistance to create.

When I create I feel truly like myself, and I am passionate about being the most authentic and unfiltered version of myself that I can be. I am the artwork I willalways be working on. My mind is the masterpiece that needs scissors to cut through the thoughts that hold me back from being authentically me and creating from a place of present innocence. Below I have inserted some images of the creations I have made using scissors over the years. Some creations were wonky and weird in places, but I loved them unconditionally, and whole-heartedly enjoyed making them.

Oh, and P.S. I'm using my metaphorical scissors to write this competition entry, because I could have listened to the limiting beliefs, but instead I have chopped them up into little pieces to sprinkle over myself like confetti to celebrate my creations.

-Nirah Celeste