, , , ,

I’m sitting at my table contemplating life. A big order, but one I undertake constantly. It is my duty, as a member of this world, this planet, this life, to make sure I am fulfilling my promise. My life’s promise. To use my abilities to make others and myself happy.

I am an artist.

I am an artist in every sense of the word. I appreciate it and create it with words, colors, thoughts, and melodies. I know it is my calling to use my gifts to their potential. Some may think that is arrogant, but I think it’s realistic. I know what I talents are, and I also know what my talents are not. I am not a business woman, I am not a sales person, I am not a waitress.

I am an artist.

I have creativity burning through my bones, searing through my veins and electrifying my mind. I am a generator brimming with energy …but I can’t seem to find the right outlet.

Thus far, WordPress has been a welcome and gracious platform on which I place my dreams and practices and thoughts. It is amazing and useful and wonderful, but it may not be enough. I need to feel like I am contributing to something greater than myself while gaining enough in return to feel that I am truly being used.  To paraphrase A.J. Durai: I am a vessel. Yet as I am currently full, I must be poured. But I don’t want my contents poured down the drain to nothingness. I demand that they be lifted and sung and heard and seen and used as inspiration for others to spread their talents and joys. Creativity is to be shared.  It is like a flame. The more matches brought together, the more it will grow and spread its warm glow. (The matches in this analogy are people, just fyi ;))

I sit at my table and I contemplate life. I don’t know anything about why or how we’re all here (though I do have my little theories). But I do know what I am.

I am an artist.