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My whole life is a lie. (Okay, that's too dramatic).

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by , 01-21-2014 at 10:49 PM (3470 Views)
Seriously, though, I've been thinking about this and I've come to the conclusion that I know very little about myself.

It's this darned movie, really. I was watching Runaway Bride (anything with Julia Roberts is amazing) for the 5 bagazillionth time (*see footnote) and eating an omelet. I've ALWAYS preferred omelets, even if I have no fillings for it. And then Julia's running around eating every imaginable type of egg, because she doesn't know what she likes. And I *really* stopped and tasted my food. And I didn't really like it. I was eating my omelet out of habit!!

Of course, I see myself in movies/books/etc all the time and later realize there's no similarities. (Can you be a hypochondriac with things other than illnesses? ) Regardless, my new found aversion to my favorite part of breakfast (sorry, bacon-lovers) caused me to think about other aspects of my life.

I've *always* known I was a writer. My essays and short stories got me so much extra credit in school that I passed every English/Literature course- even the ones I ditched almost every day.

And yet... I've been trying to write a novel for [censored] years, and I've never finished one. Never got more than halfway. I've never published anything either. Not even my amazing short stories.

I've *always* known I was an artist. From the earliest time I can remember until now, when I make a living by painting. Well... it's not exactly a living... more of a "scraping by".. but still. I can draw or paint anything! Well... except hands. And animals. And cities. And buildings. And crowds of people. And... you know what, forget that, it's irrelevant. I still have a good eye, that's all that matters, right?

Or do I?

I cannot for the life of me match the styles of objects in my attempted maps. I can't *see* how you all create these amazing blends of seemingly *wrong* colors (I've never seen a parchment colored tree.. have you?) and somehow turn them in to those beautiful works of art that are your finished maps.

I've been prowling these forums 16 hours a day for (a month?) some time now, and I still can't make my hands and eyes do what my brain wants them to do.

...... That's what NON-artists say about sketching/painting!

Not a writer. Not a Cartographer. No longer a teacher. And now... am I really an artist?

According to this Huffington Post Article:

Artists are people who call themselves artists. According to Marcel Duchamp, the artist defines art, and it seems increasingly true that nowadays artists also define who and what they are. Definitions by nature are confining and restrictive, while art and its makers seek to be expansive and inclusive
(selective editing)

Yes, yes I am. I'll keep calling myself an artist as long as I can hold a brush or a pencil, and I'll keep trying to make a map until I accomplish it.

Take that, Julia Roberts!


* word /wərd/ noun
noun: word; plural noun: words
1. a single distinct meaningful element of speech or writing, used with others (or sometimes alone) to form a sentence and typically shown with a space on either side when written or printed.

"5 bagazillionth time"

Spaces? Check. Used with others to form a sentence? Check. Writing? Check. Single? Check. Distinct? Check. Meaningful.... Check.

bagazillionth /bagazillionth/ number
1. The number of times Jalyha has seen Runaway Bride.

In short? It's a word if I say it
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