You say you’re not an artist, then you cut a perfect leaf into the top of the pie crust.
You say you’re not creative, but you make up puns on the spot.
You say you’re not inspired, then you carefully write the perfect encouragement into that graduation card.
You say you’re not inventive, but your homemade Halloween costume blows everyone away.
You say you’re not gifted, then you stand up at your daughter’s wedding and sing a song that makes everyone cry.
You say you’ve never been visited by the muse, but you assemble the perfect bouquet of flowers to give your friend on her birthday.
You say you’re not original, then you sign your name with your own special flourish.
You say you’re not good enough or smart enough or talented enough to be an artist, then you remember a time when you didn’t doubt yourself. A time when you were little and you were every kind of artist at once. You drew pictures that were good enough to be hung on the fridge. You did dances that made your relatives clap with glee. You made up poems about your broccoli, and your parents laughed. You knew you were an artist, and you loved yourself for that.
You still are. You always will be. It’s time to love your artist self again.
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