It’s only recently that I’ve realized this:
There is an artist in me.
For so long, I had dismissed any attempts at being visually creative. The usual excuse: “I’m not talented enough to draw,” or “No one in the family is good at art,” or “I’m not really an artistic person.”
But I am an artistic person — at least in my own amateur, non-profit way. I have always expressed myself through the literary arts1. A different medium, a different approach.
When it comes to visual arts, my excuses only vexxed me in this toxic feedback loop of stagnating, never creating, never expressing. How did that go?
I recently saw Keith Haring’s art for the first time a few weeks ago. And all of this hit me in a strange but good way. It’s likely because, in my humble opinion, there’s a bit of semblance or style between his drawings and my doodling. His art looks simple, but we all know that there’s more subtance to it.