Some of us are not cut out for a day job at a desk. I’m quite certain we’re born that way. “Artist” was a word I never identified with. I was never talented enough, so I left that to others. As I’ve grown up, I’ve begun to understand that being an artist isn’t about being fit for public consumption. Being an artist is having the ability to leave your soul on a canvas or a piece of paper and wait for people to crucify it. But, we can’t stop doing it. There might be one other person out there that gets it. We continue trying to find that person.
I’m not a painter, a builder, a crafter. So, I never felt like I was an artist. But artists are writers, poets, musicians. Artists are people who throw their heart and soul into the universe and wait to be stomped on, and yet, we keep going.
So, yeah….I wrote my first story at 8, my first play at 9, and my first poem at 11. I never shared any of it because sharing it would mean baring my soul. I’m still alive. I’ve been throwing things out there for a while now. A lot of my writing is comparable to a painter’s portrait of a bowl of fruit. It’s socially acceptable art. People may say it’s great! “That’s a good bowl of fruit, Julie!” But it’s not the best I can do. The best I can do is too difficult to consume for many. Maybe, that’s what makes it art.
If you’re going to be an artist, you need to be willing to go to the very darkest parts of your mind; you need to be able to write or draw the darkest parts of you that can possibly show the rest of humanity who they are.
Stop cutting the arts programs in schools. I barely made it through. Give the artists, the musicians, the poets, the writers, a place to belong. They are the people that will push humankind forward.