On Artistry

I honestly wish that I was an artist. I consider myself a hack. I'm mediocre at best at what I do, but I do a lot of it. Drawing, painting, writing fiction/non-fiction/poems/plays, sculpture, sewing, singing, cooking/baking/mixing cocktails, dance, acting on stage/screen, playing the guitar/piano/ocarina/kazoo, costuming, pottery, collage, woodworking, engineering, I've dabbled in all these things but not a one has taken root in me and exploded like a weed throughout all else. Some of these I feel I'm better at than others, some I've forgotten how to do completely. In some I've been patted on the head and told how good I was, but I believe it was meant only as encouragement.

What is missing from all my work is the ability to convey emotion. I was telling this all to Tim the other day, and he said that all artists suffer from a feeling of miscommunication, that their audiences almost never grasp the artist's true intent. This, however, is not my problem. My problem lies in that I simply don't communicate anything.

I wrote a book of poetry when I was still in school that my teacher praised, and I wish I'd progressed at a steady rate from there. I don't believe I've grown as fast as I should have. I get the feeling that I've let down a lot of people who had very high hopes for me.