Now this topic. Would probably be an entire book. Art is my everything. It is forever a part of me. I love it more than myself. But it eats away at me. I don't understand the science behind it, or the words to describe it. Its etched into my fate, my being my heart and bones. I crave it day to day. I use it for comfort, for an understanding. Of the world, myself. But I will never understand. Or atleast I think. For years I've felt insecure about my own art. More than I ever had about my body, my personality. Well, it is apart of my personality. Or really, it is my personality. It's all I can talk about, I'll vent about it, I'll rave about it. It's the first thing I mention in an icebreaker. I am an artist. I feel like one. I am one, right? Why is it so hard for me to accept it. That I love it so much that I've cried, many times. Just thinking about it. I want to feel what I draw, most specifically my environment drawings. Whether over a picture, or I draw the background myself. I love the feeling. Like I'm there. The nostalgia of a place I've never been, or have been in a way. I feel that with other people's art too. Sometimes I'll scroll through people's art in many parts of the day. I love it. I love seeing the differences, the care, and understanding other people have. I relate to it, I love. I wish other people understood this feeling of mine. They never do if theyre not an artist. It's always, "whats wrong with ai?" "its okay i guess (regarding my drawings" "why dont you just draw realism?" " why cant you draw this for me" "you should fix this ( they arent an artist)" etc etc. It bothers me. It has diminished my self esteem. I want to love art so deeply. And I do. But why does it feel like everything is keeping me away from it. I want to sing, I want to take pictures, I want to build, I want to create. I want so badly that I'll cry. I want to draw, with pencils, brushes, with anything. I want to mold something, to make, with my own hands. If my hands ever broke I'd be devastated, but I know I can use my legs. If I lost all limbs I'll use my mouth. If I lost everything, I'll wait, for the eternal life, where the art of love and life resides.

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