Don’t give up
I’m still trying to figure out why I’m an artist. I’m the only artist in my family, and one of very few in my circle of friends. I’ve had 1,000 opportunities to do something else, and though I’ve tried to turn away, I couldn’t help but answer the call to do this.
Why did I give up on the “sure thing?”
I had a decent salary, a respectable occupation for a private-sector company that I could name drop at dinner banquets and soirées I didn’t care to attend. My title would elicit reactions like: “Oh, nice!” from strangers.
I had it all, one would suspect…
But I wasn’t happy.
It’s clear to me now that I could never have been happy with that life. It’s not an “artist’s life,” or a particularly proud one, either. I wasn’t building anything, and I had no real attachment to the work I was doing.
I often thought that when the day came that I had lived enough to become retrospective, around age 80, I’d have a slex of meaningful experiences and irreplaceable memories to choose from. But that wasn’t the case, when I was on my professional-path.
I get it, and I can relate to not feeling particularly creative. Some people crunch numbers or are personal trainers. Some people consider critical thinking as their artform or way to express themselves.
For some, going to Med School is the dream.
And that’s cool for everyone else. But I write.
I am a writer.
That is the largest piece of who I am and it is the reason behind every decision I’ve made over the last 3 years. It is perhaps the single, largest influence on me throughout my existence. It was around 3 years ago, that I realized there was something inside of me that needed to get out, and I needed to do whatever I could for that to happen.
I started this website in an effort to answer that call and, for once in my life, not give up on something.
If I created this website for recognition or fame, I would have failed a long time ago. I didn’t have illusions of grandeur, and because I didn’t, I received so much more in return: the opportunity to speak to people I have never met. I get the chance to discuss art and media with other “creative-types” at any time, whenever I want, and above all else, I get to keep writing.
I don’t have a very clear picture in my mind of what my life will be like in 5 years or 10 years, but I know that if it has writing in it… I’ll be okay. As of right now, the mere notion that I’m still here, writing, proves that even awful clichés like “don’t give up” have a place.
So, don’t give up, because while the pessimists, “realists” and haters one day will, the artist in you won’t.
When have you struggled with being an artist?