I can totally relate Jonas… I feel like I’m reading my own thoughts in your words.

One day I was drawn to a bookshelf, whilst home sitting my partners mothers place… I closed my eyes and let my hand wander like the beginning of an enchantment… my fingers lay on the red skinny spine of a book entitled: Art & Fear.

That day I would later come to find struck more than a single chord, rather a crescendo of rhythm from the philosophies and intertwinings that we all have with finding our art, and eventually expressing it. The thesis of the book basically states were all born artists, however the longer life goes on fewer and fewer of us retain the words “I am an artist” and replace it with something else more practical.

It’s interesting because I find its precisely when we self proclaimed “here’s my puzzle world! Say whatever you want! But its mine!” Then we’ve taken the first step in opening our (he)art to criticism.

I find in times of anxiety something that knits me back into earth is the phrase “whatever is unreal — changes… and whatever is real, does not.” That reminds me of how insignificant and mortal people’s fleeting opinions are… and how significant and universal I am when I watch the fear wash over my heart.

Much love to you