​I am Not an Artist

Nearly all artists I know or learn of are either morally reprehensible or an egotistical narcissist. They write beautiful songs that speak of love while they themselves are horrible lovers. Yet, we as a society like to ignore or accept such things without question. Art is a reflection of the human experience, but these people spend more time on being artists than they do on being humans. I often think of the quote “A man who writes a sonnet for their lover, loves their partner. A man who writes a thousand sonnets for their partner, loves writing sonnets.” This is where I struggle with musicians. I listen to these songs and I feel the emotions and connect with the lyrics, but I learn of the artist’s history and all I can think about is how much of a hypocrite they are. I realize that this is their career, but maybe it shouldn’t be. Maybe art was never meant to be your entire life because if you spend your life constantly trying to make art then you won’t make a single significant work. Real art comes from living life without a guide. That’s how life is supposed to be. Searching out these specific feelings to create some artistic slop from it completely defeats the meaning of the human experience and the unique art that come from it. I used to want to be an artist. I’ve always been creative, but I realized that my art is not a profession. my art is me and it’s a reflection of the life I live. if I live a life full of art, I’m afraid I’ll lose all originality in what I write or draw. I have no deadlines for real art. it comes to me just as everything else has. I am not an artist, I’m a human being. Those who claim to be artists have simply forgotten what they were born to be, alive.