An honest letter to Artists
Hello, again. I wrote a bunch of stuff about art and you should know this is an exercise I do to learn the stream of consciousness technique.
Today I almost managed to force myself to edit my novel, to achieve the result of having a second draft written. You know, the purpose.
I’ll be honest with you: I write not because I want to become a writer, but because I was born this way. I always write. I feel like I’m writing even when I talk. Even when I think.
While I’m writing you this letter, I’m listening to some music. And now that I’m finally really editing my novel, I understood something as well.
I’m struggling to let it go. I don’t want it to really reach the readers.
I am no prophet — and here’s no great matter; I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker, and I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker, and in short, I was afraid.
Am I afraid?
So I did put in practice a very useful advice I read in here.
Means I’m completely rewriting a whole chapter. It was not that bad, in the first draft, but it wasn’t telling my truth.
Killing your darlings hurts.
But we have to let them go. I think this is the real meaning about the advice find your own voice.
Let me be real: I found it, and it scares me.
That’s how I know I will get it done.
If I don’t write it, I feel like I’m going to fall into madness.
I don’t really believe in it, I’m an atheist.
Being an atheist comes with a price. Sometimes it means you just have the courage of letting go all the hope, and start doing something. Anything. Even if all you see, right now, is grey.
Take the colors back in your sight. Create them. Be the artist you know you were born to be: yourself.
That’s something I learned when I’ve listened to a podcast talking about Van Gogh’s biography. That hit me, man.
He didn’t believe either. He just knew.
You know what it actually, really, means?
That I don’t care about success.
I don’t care if I’ll never be a published author.
I. Don’t. Care.
If you feel like this, when you create your art, you know you were born an artist too.
You know that all that really matters is to reach one purpose.
Get it done.
I’m an atheist, but I’m a walking paradox.
I’m a believer too.
I believe in entropy. I believe in chaos.
And I believe in the butterfly effect.
That’s really all I need to believe.
I’m rational, of course. I’ll always be a teacher too. I don’t want to give up on that, I love teaching too much.
When you’re an artist, you know you are worthy of love even when you feel like love is not part of your life.
That’s our luck. We have the tools to survive hard times.
That’s the meaning of the dragonfly you see in my picture, instead of my face. Do you really care about how I look in real life?
I don’t think you do. I’m a writer, not an actor. If I’m a good writer, I’ll have my followers, one day or another.
If I’m not that good, I’ll keep writing for myself.
And if you’re already reading me, thank you. This means more than anything to me, right now.
Van Gogh reached me drawing for himself too.
Well, that’s all for now. If you read this and you’re an artist too, keep going.