I sat in a room filled with fellow art students and wondered…

“will I ever make art I like?” 

I worked hard, but my skill never reflected the effort I gave my work. Practicing outside of class assignments was something I ignored, not because I didn’t care, but because I didn’t know what to practice or how to practice it.

You either have “it,” or you don’t.

And I didn’t. I never felt good enough: confidence was reserved for “real artists.”

I began to question: why do I even bother?

It literally took brain surgery before I admitted to myself I was holding back. I was scared of really trying and it not working out. Even after having my art in the Smithsonian, I still questioned my skill and whether I was really an artist.

In the days leading up to my surgery (where I was told: I could go blind, or die), I painted for the first time in my life without fear. I had nothing left to prove. And all the insecurities I had about my skill, about me being an artist, didn’t matter. All I knew was that I wanted to paint. 

In that moment, and in the weeks following I tangibly understood my time on this planet wasn’t promised.

What did I have to lose?

The problem was I didn’t know how to improve my skill. 

Here I was, certain art was my calling, but I wasn’t seeing growth. Or, it came in random spurts that left me clueless as to what was working and what wasn’t. 

Youtube videos, Pinterest tutorials, art books, random local art classes at community college… I was doing it all, but I still struggled to call myself an artist. 

Drawing the same thing over and over again did nothing. I would feel proud of my effort, then see little progress; get embarrassed by my work, and feel stuck all over again.

I also avoided feedback because I didn’t really know how feedback worked, not to mention the countless horror stories around critique frightened me.

It was only when I understood that skill grows through something called deliberate practice (not time served), that I began to see a shift in my work and feel the confidence to explore putting my ideas to paper or canvas.

That’s when I realized: I knew how to practice when I played the flute. Why wasn’t I doing that for my art?! 

Musicians practice scales, focus on one skill at a time, and use feedback intentionally from their trusted peers and mentors; all qualities of deliberate practice. 

Today, I’ve stopped seeing struggles or lack of skill in an area as a sign I should give up; they are actually evidence of learning and growth.

I no longer wait for an imagined perfect time or place. I can grow my skill in any medium I wish.

I’ve applied for awards, exhibitions and grants, and won them all. But that’s not why I feel proud to call myself an artist.

Making art does.

Instead of waiting and hoping for “it,” I committed to my art practice.

Talent is overrated.

I am an artist that knows how to grow my skill. And I continue to grow, evolve, and learn as I lean into my interests, develop my style, and express my unique voice.