You’re a writer. An artist.
You write about things that matter to you, and I’m sure you hope those things will matter to others, but even if they don’t, you’re still going to do the work.
That’s what artists do. It’s remarkable. But it’s more than that…
It’s audacious.
You don’t need recognition and approval
We might want it, and from time to time we may even wonder why we’re not getting more of it, but we: Don’t. Need. It.
Vincent van Gogh
Vincent van Gogh wasn’t recognized as an artist during his lifetime, and yet today there’s no argument that he was an artist. One of the greatest. Ever.
Van Gogh created art whether anyone cared or not. He didn’t need recognition or the applauding approval of an audience. In fact, he only sold one painting during his lifetime, The Red Vineyard (above).
He didn’t need you. He didn’t need me.
He didn’t need anyone to recognize his greatness.
All he needed were his canvases, brushes, and paint.
He was audacious like that.
That’s remarkable. Really.
I’m sure when you think about it you’ll realize you don’t need anyone’s approval, or their recognition for that matter.
I can do nothing about it if my paintings don’t sell. The day will come, though, when people will see that they’re worth more than the cost of the paint and my subsistence, very meagre in fact, that we put into them.
― Vincent van Gogh
Source: Personal letter to his brother, Theo:
What’s audacious about being a writer?
You’re a writer, regardless of whether anyone buys your work or not. It’s the work itself that matters. You simply need the means to put your words on paper.
Being audacious is about taking risks, going against conventions and the status quo.
Trivial things like keeping up with the Joneses and the 9 to 5 lifestyle are not for you.
As writers, we battle inner turmoil every day caused by doubt, and we create work with no guarantees it will be accepted. In fact, there will be those who dislike it and harshly criticize it.
We give most of our lives to doing something no one fully understands, much less appreciates, except fellow artists who are also brave enough to create anyway.
That’s audacious.
In a hundred years, whether you sell all of your work or only one piece, or none, all that will matter is that your words are still here.
Our words live on.
So write.
Scribble your little writer’s heart out. (Click to Tweet)
Your work matters.
You’re a writer. An artist.
Indeed. You’re audacious like that.
That’s remarkable. Really. You’re remarkable.
What are you currently working on? Tell us about it in the comments.
