On my welcome page, I wrote that my novel takes priority. It certainly does. It’s everything. Sometimes life circumstances try to convince you that your everything is nothing, that there are more important things to address than your fantastical ideas. Art is such a battle, though I truly believe it’s such a glorious, introspective experience where I can take the time to understand myself and be relieved from all the life circumstances that convince me to censor myself. Those circumstances that implore that ignoring them is too great of a risk, that I should be safe.
Because art is a battle, it isn’t safe and never will be. Art is pure vulnerability, which can transform into terror or freedom depending on how powerful your fear is. There’s that 50/50 tug-of-war going on: The first fifty says “What if you share your work and this happens?” and the other fifty says “What if you never share your work and this happens?” Circumstance. Consequence. Chaos. I am so torn by risk, but I am so thrilled by the challenge. I’m in a position where I must bet on myself or bet on a system that may or may not take care of me. I know for a fact that if the system doesn’t have art or doesn’t let me create art, I’ll die. I’ve idealized death too many times to go there again. That was another risk. Another circumstance. Another chaotic instance of thrill and torment, but at least in art that torment tears me to pieces that I can reassemble and make into a new creation. Art provides rebirth beyond death or circumstance or consequence. Art is one of those immortal mediums that I’ve chosen to surrender to, so why shouldn’t I just fall and see if my masterpieces catch me or blow wind under me so I can fly as high as possible, see the big picture, and remember what I’m living for?
Risk as a writer is a dive into first-person narration where your perception is limited, but choices must be made. What I should take from my current risks as a writer, as an artist, is remembering that any choice I make will make me reborn. The chaos is beyond my control, but during the rebirth the least I can do is dance in the storm since all this experience I’ve gained has made me strong enough to brace myself for the storm’s blow or flow with its currents and absorb the unknown. This is what art has taught me. It’s not a “no risk, no reward” situation; the risk is the reward.
I can do this. I am enough.
I am enough.