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Art Passion - The creator that I think I can be, and what I really am
Introduction
Art is often compared to a garden, a place where ideas take root, where inspiration grows wild, and where the delicate balance between control and chaos determines whether something flourishes or fades. But what happens when that garden grows in the darkness? What happens when the seed of creativity is weighed down by expectation, by the label of "talent"? This is my journey, a path filled with challenges, realizations, and the slow, patient growth of understanding what being an artist truly means.
A Childhood Marked by Talent
From the moment I could hold a brush, I was labeled as talented. The word followed me like a constellation in the night sky, defining me, guiding me, and at times, trapping me in an orbit I didn’t fully understand.
"Oh, Jaden is so talented! He dances without fear, reads before anyone else, writes imaginative stories, and—above all—draws like a prodigy."
My father also drew when he was young. He showed me the basic forms, the way a single stroke could define a figure, and I admired him deeply for it. Though I never told him outright, I wanted to draw like him.
But my first true encounter with art came before I even understood what it was. At three years old, in kindergarten, we were given a choice of activities—play with toy kitchens, sculpt with clay, build with trucks, or paint. I chose painting. Given colorful tempera paints and sheets of paper, I was expected to create within the lines. Instead, I pressed my paint-covered hands against the classroom wall, leaving my mark. It was instinctive, raw, something beyond rules.
Of course, the school was not pleased. My mother had to apologize, and I was scolded: "You can’t do that."
But of course, you can. It’s called muralism.
The Struggle of Being a "Gifted Kid"
Growing up, I continued making art—yet always under a set of rules. The right way to shade. The correct way to mix colors. The proper way to create. Over time, perfectionism settled in, and my love for art started feeling like a burden.
By the time I was in high school, my rebellious streak grew stronger. I refused to follow art assignments exactly as they were given. I questioned my teachers on what made certain techniques superior to others. When I was told to change the shade of green in a painting to one that didn’t evoke any emotion in me, I fought back.
"Why does it matter if I like this green more? Why must I change it just because someone else says so?"
I had my first creative block without realizing it.
As Dr. K from Healthy Gamer once said, being a "gifted kid" is... terrible. It sets you up for an expectation of effortless excellence, and when you finally encounter something difficult, something that doesn’t come naturally, it feels like failure.
The Devastating Realization: No Talent At All
When I started university, I discovered something that shook me to my core—I had no talent.
At first, the thought was crushing. Everything I had been praised for growing up seemed to vanish in an instant. But as I stepped back, as I let the idea settle, I saw the truth: talent is a misleading word when it comes to art.
Art is not about being gifted. It’s about practice.
I spent years following my father’s footsteps, searching for the same exhilaration I felt in kindergarten, hoping to rediscover that unfiltered joy of creation. I built characters and worlds, pouring my emotions into them, seeking connection through them. And yet, I often felt misunderstood.
But now, I understand something that was hidden beneath layers of expectation: art is not about having innate skill. It’s about loving the process enough to keep going.
Breaking Free from Perfectionism
So, how do you break free from the curse of talent? How do you continue when you feel like you’ll never be good enough?
I learned a few things:
- Stop overthinking. The more you analyze every brushstroke, the more you distance yourself from the joy of creation.
- Care less. Not in a way that dismisses effort, but in a way that lets go of fear.
- See the lack of talent as a blessing. If talent were everything, then only a few people would be artists. But in reality, everyone has the ability to grow.
- Create outside of your main medium. I don’t just draw. I write, crochet, make videos, post on Discord, send letters, read, and even started learning guitar again after five years of not touching an instrument.
The Ocean and the Garden: Two Ways to Grow
My relationship with art is like a garden growing in the dark. It’s not always seen, not always recognized, but it continues to develop. Sometimes it feels like Princess Mononoke’s forest—wild, tangled, filled with spirits and whispers of the past. A place where creativity thrives in its own time, not under someone else’s rules.
Other times, it feels like the ocean—deep, vast, and overwhelming. Some days, I’m floating on the surface, enjoying the sunlit waves of inspiration. Other days, I’m drowning in self-doubt, struggling against the current of perfectionism. But even the darkest depths hold life, and sometimes, the greatest ideas come from the abyss.
Conclusion: The Artist I Am Becoming
So, who am I as an artist?
Not the one I thought I would be.
But that’s okay.
I am an artist who keeps going. Who experiments. Who finds new ways to express. Who refuses to let perfectionism strangle the joy of creation. Who sees the garden growing in the dark and nurtures it, even when it’s hard to see the progress.
Art is not about talent. It’s about doing.
And as long as I keep creating, I will always be an artist.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧
Thank you for reading till here... 💜
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