I was asked the other day: “why did you decide to be an artist?” This question stops me in my tracks instantly. I responded quickly with the only response I thought worthy: “why do you breathe?”
It was never a decision to be an artist. I just am, and was always that. Most children grow up constantly pondering the question of what to be when you grow up. This I never could relate with and humored the best I could. There was no choice. I am artist. I count myself lucky that the decision was made for me! What a heavy decision to make! For me my career path and identity were always tied together so close that it nearly pained me to think of ever doing anything else with my life. No, it was laid out for me. I cant stop making art and live anymore than you can stop breathing and live. Sure, I suppose that sounds melodramatic, but its the only truth I am familiar with.
It was never a decision to be an artist. I just am, and was always that. Most children grow up constantly pondering the question of what to be when you grow up. This I never could relate with and humored the best I could. There was no choice. I am artist. I count myself lucky that the decision was made for me! What a heavy decision to make! For me my career path and identity were always tied together so close that it nearly pained me to think of ever doing anything else with my life. No, it was laid out for me. I cant stop making art and live anymore than you can stop breathing and live. Sure, I suppose that sounds melodramatic, but its the only truth I am familiar with.
