I’m not an artist

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I’m not a musician or a curator.

I listen to music, and it envelopes me in the emotions I already had. I fill myself and fuel myself by the notes around me. I turn it up louder to drown out everything going on around me until I can feel it pulsing underneath my skin. I let it draw the emotion out of me. I use it to vent, to help me cry, to show my joy and my love for someone.

I am not a writer.

I write down my journal entries every morning to try to find some semblance of order in the universe. I drone on and on in a way that only makes sense to me. I feel blurbs form in my head and get them down on paper, on this blog, on the notepad app on my phone, in Instagram captions. Writing releases me. It gives me a way to talk without talking, to communicate when I can’t communicate.

I am not a dancer.

I knew a long time ago that my passion for dance would be just that and only that. A passion. I dance in my living room, in my bathroom, in front of my mirror. I let the music take me where my body needs to go. I let it flow out of me with my poor turnout and my lousy flexibility and my short stature.

I am not a painter.

The painting that flows out of me is an expression of the chaos in my head. I have no skills, no technique, no understanding of how to correctly apply paint to a canvas. I quickly grab paint off the shelf in a craft store and clumsily slap it onto any surface available. It gives me the sense of physical satisfaction, that feeling of dragging thick paint across a rough surface, seeing the colors blend together in beautiful, interesting combinations.

I am not a photographer.

The photographs I take are what I see. The stories I tell are the stories placed in front of me. I use the cameras I like, the lenses that feel good. I didn’t go to school for this. The compositions don’t follow rules. I make my own rules with the way I feel when I look through the view finders. This is a job only one in a million people get to do. Am I that one in a million?

I am not an artist. I’m a person who uses art as an outlet, who creates to fully feel, who can only communicate properly through mediums other than talking.

I’m not an artist or painter or dancer or writer or musician or curator. I am all these things. But more importantly. I’m me.

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