Inside you there’s an artist you don’t know about. ~ Rumi
Some days, like today days, it’s easy to forget, easy to slump downward, shoulders and spirit drifting grave-ward. The artist within cowers behind to-do lists and do too lists, hides his eyes beneath furrowed brows, and rolls his toes under in apology for being at all.
But it’s especially these days, these gloomy, confidence wilting lump in your throat days that you need to remember, need to affirm in guttural grunts or soaring anthem – shoulders back, chest extended, forehead stretched upward – that you are an artist. From that first wailing, ass smacking moment until your last triumphant gasp you are an artist. Always. Until you’re not. At all.
You are born an artist or you are not. And you stay an artist, dear, even if your voice is less of a fireworks. The artist is always there. ~ Maria Callas
Let there be fireworks. Or drifting smoke, fading booms and gunpowder perfume. Let there but art in your flash and in your fizzle. Let there be art.
Everything you do is art.
From the moment you wake up until the moment you sleep, you’re creating art…
Every single thing you do is art.
You cannot escape it…
You’re an artist. Life is your canvas…
What are you doing with your canvas? ~ Raam Dev
You are an artist. Always.