Oh, to be an Artist.
I’ve discovered over the years that being an Artist is a very special thing indeed. We’re meant to bear the emotions, thoughts, opinions, and movement of society’s consciousness on our bare shoulders. The degree to which we expose our barest human nature depends heavily on the courage (or what some would consider to be the “insanity level”) of the particular Artist.
As a singer, I’ve definitely had my cross to bear. Being looked at differently. Considered differently. Made to feel differently. I’ve learned recently to truly accept and uphold this position… though I’m still discovering what exactly my role is as a living, functioning creative Artist.
I don’t consider myself to be one of the zanier grapes of the bunch. My art is not often infused in a painting (although I did try that for the first time a few days ago), nor is it always held together by a song (I have a few of those, but none I would consider to be mind altering).
Alas, my art is in connection. Communication. A viewpoint. Channeling emotion. That is my gift. My art. The ability to fuse human experience and give people the sense that they are not alone in this life. That they are understood. That they are connected. I do this through conversation. In being there with the person. In listening. In giving of my time. Through my voice. And the written word.
The combination of elements is different with every encounter. Sometimes it’s stronger than other times, but it’s always there. Always ready to fuse, to connect, to elevate, and to re-familiarize. I carry light. And shed it with every encounter. I’m at my best when I can give it away freely and in copious amounts. And I thrive off of seeing that light shine back at me.
For me, this is being an Artist.