The art that you spend so much time with in solitude takes on a version of you. Maybe the work you make isn’t necessarily something you share easily with openness. Maybe you don’t feel that you say the “correct” things in the moment and the right words find you later on. I definitely feel that way.
Opening up myself and being vulnerable has never been easy for me. I grew up in a family where affection was never loud. Love was tuned in silence.
Recently sharing my art, an extension of my love, has been a bit scary, but rewarding. A closeness and intimacy is shared that leads to a clearer understanding.