To myself, my heart aches in every moment you stare at your laptop for hours and hours—unable to start on that novel that you have been dreaming of hitting the shelves of your local bookstore. You want the world to know about your protagonist, but you can never find the motivation to start. May you never forget the time when you were seven. You sat for hours and hours as you write fables and short stories that hold lessons and wisdom exceeding your years. You may think that you have lost your art as you spent years writing facts and what is required—never having the time to actually write what your imagination bleeds. Never let anyone or even your profession tell you to suppress your creativity. Let it flow from your vein and onto paper. You are a writer.
You may also think that you have lost your sight on what is beautiful as you focused on what you deem is “real”. You think that as you stare at your camera’s gallery—never contented of what you took. May you never forget the time you were nine years old and someone complimented the photos you took of the wedding you attended to. May you also remember the time you won a still life photography competition because you found a story in inanimate objects. Focusing on what is real does not have to take away your unique perspective. You used to see such simple things in the most beautiful way. Never let the idea of plain reality consume you. Each person, place, or object tells a story. I long for your eyes to find yourself capturing beauty in your perspective.
Furthermore, I know people may have told you that you are not good enough as you stare at the blank canvas. May you never forget the time you had your first palette and paint. You surprised yourself with the way you blended colors and turned your poetry into paintings. It was painful how one day you decided you could neither draw nor produce a painting that is good enough. Please never let yourself be confined in your own harsh judgments and insecurities. Art is a process. You have the passion, so let it ignite. Never put out the fire within you before you could even see the beauty in what you do.
Lastly, I missed the person you were when you were five. Do you remember how all of your classmates went to recognition day as doctors, lawyers, teachers, scientists, and engineers? You were the only one dancing around in your pink tutu dress. You wanted to grow up as a professional ballet dancer. You have been practicing since you were three. You were certain that it was your dream, but society took that dream from you. Every single year you spent on performing through acting, dancing, and singing was taken away from you. “Art could not sustain you,” they said.
With that, you grew up thinking your worth is measurable by a Bachelor of Science degree. You were forced to think that passing the board or bar exams was the only way to prove yourself or to even be recognized. Countless of people have told you to never settle for anything as “easy” as the arts. They told you that it does not pay the bills in order for you to live. But love, remember that art is a part of living. We stay alive in order to see the beauty in photographs, to feel the pain in poetry, and to love the way romantic writers told us to love. These professions that they speak highly of indeed help sustain lives. However, art makes us human. You are an artist not because of how much it pays, but because of how much it fills your soul. It is your reflection. You bare yourself—your emotions, your passion, and your perspectives through your art.
Dear self, never let anyone take your pen, your paintbrush, your camera, your stage, and your passion away from you ever again. You live to express. You live to perform. You live to make your own choices and to follow your dreams. You never lost the artist within you. You were always an artist. It is about time to free yourself from the shackles that you, yourself, has placed. It is time to disregard the judgements against the arts. You are an artist and it is your role to make the world see it. But most importantly, make art for yourself.
Love, Raye
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