One of my new perspectives on art, is that it doesn’t have to be so damn painful. I mean, it can be, and it does require hard work, but I’ve let go now of the idea that if I don’t become famous, that if I don’t join the pantheon of artists, then my art wasn’t good and didn’t mean anything.

While I of course want to be famous one day, I’m not in a position where I can quit my job and write full time, or draw full time. I have to work for a living, I have people who rely on me. So I have my day job, which I enjoy, and which makes me a decent amount of money, and I hope within 10 years if I’m smart I will be able to step back and work fewer hours in corporate and be able to spend more time doing art. However, in the meantime, I still make art. I still draw, I still write. I make headdresses, and dress myself like a walking artwork. I enjoy creativity for its own sake. I enjoy the process and the journey. I know if I steadily work at it, I will get better and better at it.

And even now, my art has meaning. It brings happiness to my loved ones. It makes strangers smile on the street. My suicidal fiance said it saved his life, when I sent him artworks while he was in jail, he would look at them for hours and hold on until the pain passed.

Even if I never become famous, my art is and was real.

I don’t need the recognition of critics. I want the honest feelings of love and responsiveness from a fellow soul. Whether that’s only a small circle of friends, or millions of people, that’s why I make art.

And not having to worry about “making a living” from my art actually freed me from so much stress. It makes me think that when I finish my novel, I might release it online for free, or in a “pay as much as you want” format.

Ultimately I make art because I have visions, feelings and stories inside me that I want to share. That’s it.