As an artist -One-

I started calling myself an artist years back maybe when I was twenty. I gave myself that title. I was looking at it romantically as someone creative who struggles to get their perspective out. Young struggling artist. I fancied the idea of it. I still do. I still am very much in love with the idea of being an artist.

I have been an artist since I can remember. I dare say I was born an artist. I didn’t always understood it but I was an artist struggling to find himself. A large part of me being unable to define myself was because for the longest time I didn’t understand what an artist was. Now its one of those words I identify with. Like Christian or Sociopath. I am an artist. Before that I understood artist to strictly be someone who paints. I have always envied those who could draw so as a result I didn’t see myself as an artist until I started reading about them in history books.

It’s a funny feeling to read about someone or people that you find yourself identifying with. Black or white, African or otherwise. It gives you confidence and a bit of fear to see someone like you aspired like you an over came great challenges. And to see how in the end, everything just worked out to their benefit, and maybe it didn’t completely work out, but you know something worked because you are sitting their reading about them. Its almost like an ego boost with a pinch of jealousy.

I have always seen myself as struggling a little bit more than the typical artist has. Well…maybe there is nothing typical about being an artist but I believe that writers have it harder than any other form of artist. Especially in today’s American society. A photographer we can see at glance the skill of the shot, a painter we can see the talent almost immediately. But the writer we have to feel them. We have to be willing to sit down and immerse ourselves in the world they have created. Its almost like a movie or play but even then most of the work is done for you. Just sit back and enjoy. I’m talking about written art. Something you cant hold or look at, something you have to feel.