I graduated with two bachelor’s degrees - in biology and psychology - I had moved across the country by myself, I had landed a great internship, and then had gotten a “real” 9-5. I thought by being “successful” I would be happy.
I wanted to be an artist. I’ve always wanted to be an artist.
That is why I gave up everything.
But it wasn’t until I took that step, until I did the most insane thing, until I risked failing entirely, that I became one.
It was in that moment that my heart was free, and my life was a mess, and everything seemed to be falling apart. I felt it. I finally knew I was doing this for real. I’ve never felt happier.
Artists are people who live boldly, vulnerably, vibrantly. They are people who show up every day because they want to, not because they have to; who still go frustrating days, who still have too much to get done in a day, but don’t have to clock in to do it. They live it.
They cant help it. I couldn’t help it.
One of the hardest things I’ve had to do is stop saying “I want to be” and start saying“ I AM an artist.” It brings questions like, “okay, but what is your real job?” And it seems to beg for people to tell me about more “reliable” options, but I’ve tried all other options. I did things the “right” way, and after all that, this is exactly the option I want.
I may not know exactly how this will go, but it is going. I am vulnerably, boldly, vibrantly here that is how I became an artist.