Day Fifty Two: Artistic

I am an artist.

I’ve been working on saying this for a while, but it is actually true. I have decided that it is so. You have probably heard me say before that I am not an artist because I cannot draw worth a damn. I was lying. Not really, I can’t draw anything useful, like people, but I make pretty swirly designs that make me very happy.

I owe this revolution to two people. The first is my friend Tony who gave me a beautiful leather journal for Christmas. In it he wrote me this long note about how I had been saying I wasn’t an artist. He told me I was wrong that that he believed in me and a whole bunch of other stuff that makes me cry every time I open the journal. (Thanks, Tony.) Having someone believe in my art makes me happy.

My boyfriend, Taylor, is my other support system. He caught me doodling in my notebook again and told me he thought it was beautiful. He said if I didn’t believe him he would post it on Reddit and make people look at it, which I feel is a double edge sword. But like Tony, he believes in me.

My swirly drawings are just part of my art. My main artistic medium is my writing. That is what truly brings me joy. That is the craft I have worked on for years to hone and develop. Now I’m finally taking it seriously (because a college degree wasn’t serious enough for me) and I’m going to try and get published this year.

So be on the lookout for my next piece of art.

Challenge to my Readers: Pull together all those scraps of paper that you have been doodling/writing on and admit that you are an artist. I think we all are in some fashion or another. 

Pictures of my art are forthcoming. My phone is being a brat.