Sometimes I forget that I am good at something. I’ll forget I am a good drawer, I can play the guitar, I dabble with a working knowledge of woodblock, silkscreening, and etching. I can paint, take decent photos, publish and circulate zines and other creative writing. I love this ability, these creative abilities that I have nurtured over the years.
In some ways, I have taken for granted the number of talents that I have. I know a few people who’ve told me, “I can’t really draw, I would never do something artistic like that because it’s intimidating.”
I have to take that for what it is, but I really have to start actively loving my abilities instead of shying away from them, and not wanting to develop them further because they are seen by some as useless, frivolous, or just generally aren’t encouraged enough.
I know if I didn’t have art, zines, mail art, and other modes of expression, I’d likely be long gone from this world. I love this because it’s kept me alive, keeps me alive. I love art because it helps me express, and articulate, and I think it’s inherently useful (especially in graphic design or monetary ventures).
