On one of our daily walks I pointed out some beautiful delicate tulips to my two year old son. He looked at them, nodded his head and said: “Nice. This nice. Mama paint these flowers” It felt good to know that there is another person in the world, who thinks it is a natural state of things that I want to paint whatever I find beautiful.
For a long time I searched for the community to belong to and struggled with the desire to feel loved. Then one day I was chatting to a friend and I had an overwhelming sense of being accepted and loved. The world was still the same, however something in me changed allowing myself to experience the love without looking for the but part. I realised that once I noticed this feeling of peace, acceptance and well-being I was able to recall and experience it again.
Maybe being an artist is the same: the hardest part isn’t finding own style, learning the necessary skills, figuring out ways to make money; the hardest part is learning to accept and to perceive oneself as an artist. What do you think?