It has taken a long time for me to call myself an artist. I’ve been drawing for over 30 years but even still I hesitate to say I’m an artist or that what I make is art.
I make drawings. Cartoons. Doodles. Sketches. I don’t feel like there’s any value in them. They won’t be in museums. They won’t be admired for generations. They’re lost in a sea of “real” art that takes real work and has real meaning.
That’s the default of how I think anyway.
But I’m coming to realize that what I do really is art: an expression of life, and feelings, and imagination in the only way I know how.
For anyone else who struggles with this like I do–try not to compare your unique contribution to the world to someone else’s. Definitely learn from others, admire others, and value other’s work–but don’t forget to value your own, and certainly don’e devalue yours because you think someone else’s is better.
Your work is priceless.
There’s room in this world for your unique contribution. Even more than that, the world needs your unique contribution.
Your work is valuable and meaningful and special because you are valuable and meaningful and special.
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