I believe an artist’s job is to bravely traverse their inner world so they can help lead others through theirs. Often underpaid and underappreciated, artists give words and sights and sounds to the feeling's others have but can’t always name. Art can be disregarded as a luxury until someone crashes into love or loss and then it becomes imperative that they find a story or picture or song that they can point to and say that’s what I’m feeling.
As a writer, I don’t tend to see how my work affects others very often but as a reader I know it does. There’s this moment in writing before I spell check and search for synonyms where it’s just me and my voice. The rest of the world stands still, and my fingers just start dancing across the keys until I’m reading what I didn’t know I thought or felt. Sometimes painful and sometimes amazing, when I start to let my fingers tell my story I’m able to create a portrait that others can see themselves in. This may help them understand themselves, those around them, and their place in the world. When I’m open and vulnerable I give others permission to do the same.
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