Don’t give in to the hunger—wait a moment longer, and a kind, compassionate person will come along and give you the nourishment you need. That’s the lesson I learned today, so I thought I’d share.
Being an artist of any kind is hard.
I’m late to the braving my passion game, and I recall watching the roller coaster ride of all my creative friends, not understanding why they tortured themselves.
Now—I get it. It’s not actually self-inflicted. There seems to be a thin line between a happy artist and a not-so-enthusiastic artist.
I swear, we art people are a reincarnation from the kindred souls of dogs.
We spend hours, days, months, and sometimes years pouring our hearts into a project, wishing to earn our keep with what we thrive on. We don’t ask for anything in return. We even give it away for free because we want to.
We like to be the giver of smiles. It pleases us to make you happy.
We think about our words and art, breathe it, sleep it, dream it, ignore lunch, and stagnate in one place where time stands still, and then we share it. We share it with our family, friends, agents, and the internet — More often than not, we get a couple of likes, looks, and maybe a comment.
And that’s it. The party is over before one feels like they’ve even come close to arriving.
So, you remind yourself, it’s okay. It’s not why you’re doing it.
Things will take off—one day.
You jump back into your sacred world, where you write, paint, do photography or pottery, and then— crickets again, and again, and again and you start to feel like you’re the theory of Einstein’s insanity.
What am I doing, and why am I doing it?
Then you have a party of your own. A pity party for one, and it’s not fun. But then, the sensitive, loving puppy dog who wants to once in a while get a pat on the head or a scratch on the belly {in the form of a beautiful comment or review) gets one! And the spark comes back, the desire is insatiable, and you’re back, baby!
You are back to doing what you were born to do because of the love you encounter from it and the discovery of knowing you touched a person. All it takes is one person!
Does anyone know this struggle?
Are you a pup needing to hear, “You moved me?”
Do you have any tips for others when they’re in this cycle?
Thank goodness it's not a constant desire, but artists rarely get compensated financially and spend twenty-four-seven encompassed in their creations, and if truth be told, it stinks a little when no one seems to acknowledge it. Right?
Thank you to Salvador Lopez for this morning’s surprise, and after I reread it and send out some gratitude for your words about my words and smile, I will go back to finishing my next novel.
<3
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