What does your art mean to you? What does it mean when you wake up with an idea at 2.54am, write it down and then struggle to fall back to sleep?
What does it mean to write something after months of finding it impossible? After months of keeping things bottled, to finally breathe a sigh of relief that your words are no longer lost in your blur of self-doubt?
What does it mean to express when you’re repressed to the highest degree? The highest definition of your thought, suddenly being seen by that one person who’s been eagerly anticipating your words. Just one ounce of expression from your mind. Just one thing to let them know that they aren’t alone in the world. One thing to let them know you are going to help fight for the cause. Help fight for the cause because change is necessary and without it we’re hopeless.
What does it mean to finally break away from doubters? From all those who hated your words because they spoke too intensely. From those that were scared because you were disrupting normality and challenging beliefs, and others were listening too intently. Challenging people to break away from the herd and use their words to think for themselves. What does your art mean to you?
Your art can’t really be expressed because you can’t distinguish it from your being. It is your being. It’s the reason you’re breathing. You get annoyed when people refer to it as a hobby. Your soul breaks when you realise your closest friends haven’t remembered a single word you’ve written, but still rave that they’re friends with an artist. That’s what art is.
Neglected. Is that why the bitterest of souls are usually the most creative?
See, people think that bitter moments turn humans into artists. But I don’t think that’s always the case. I believe the beauty of art can sometimes turn humans bitter. You have a desire to pour your soul into your art, only for it to be pushed aside for some Vine your friends saw online.
Your words fall on deaf ears because the world is too caught up in itself. Your stature as an artist can’t be taken seriously until you’re verified, or you’re getting views online, or your brand is the best that money can’t buy, or you’re getting interviews all the time, and PRs and radio hosts are getting in line, or you’re selling out venues — all whilst working your 9 to 5 (or more accurately, 9 to 9). You’re no artist. You’re just another person the industry players don’t have time for.
Gradually, your art is self-doubt. Your words are whispers and your voice is nothing more than a distant echo. All because your art is being judged by people that don’t really know art.
Reading that back… it seems a little silly, right? That you’re being judged by people that have no right to judge? Who are they to tell you whether or not you’re an artist?
If you write, you’re an artist. If you paint, you’re an artist. It doesn’t matter how prolific your portfolio is. It doesn’t matter how many followers you have. It doesn’t matter if one person doesn’t like what you do. Hell, it doesn’t matter if a hundred people don’t. Art is expression. And whilst there is still breath in your lungs and blood flowing through your veins, don’t you dare let anyone tell you who you are.
Or who you aren’t.
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