“I Will Fearlessly Expose Myself” - An Embrace of Art


Speak, My Soul

  I have chosen a pen name to protect myself from possible repercussions as I am trying to get my affairs in order financially. But, should it be like this? Should I hide my identity as I bare my soul? These are the circumstances we all live in; maybe it’s a perpetual conundrum of the human condition. The question Shakespeare once asked; “To be, or not to be: that is the question. Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them?” Do I embrace who I am and what my soul yearns to speak, or do I silence it for the sake of the possibility fortune and comfort.

My nature is of risk. I have always chosen to speak my mind, to take the road less traveled and to do things which ordinary people are afraid to do; to leave the safety of the harbor for the inkling of adventure. But, lately, I have been hesitant to do so because of my financial burden and my fear of being outcasted for my words. I have let my fear of being looked down by the opinions of people I know, once knew and may never know. The neuroticism of being judged by speaking my soul plagues me to the point of pain and depression. I desire to express my mind, my soul freely but terrified of the consequences.

As the years pass, I know not speaking makes me hurt with an unfathomable pain which affects all parts of my life. I have to do my best to hide that pain through silence, procrastination, and doubt. Its effects are shame and depression which I inflict on myself. No longer can I hurt me for my fears, however real or imaginary they may be. My soul yearns to speak, and I must no longer silence it. If my penname must become my identity so I can finally feel serenity then so be it, but my soul must speak so I can give my life meaning.

This pain I speak is not only inflicted on me but others I know who wish to practice an art but are afraid to show it to the world. Such as:

The Art of Dance.

The Art of Music.

The Art of Love.

The Art of Combat.

The Art of Food and Drink.

The Art of Architecture.

The Art of Stone.

The Art of Paint.

The Art of Existence.

Mine is the Art of Words and Stories, which my soul speaks and no longer must I keep it quiet. I think in today’s society its even harder to create art for not only of the fear of being judged but a fear of being called narcissistic and egotistic, which also kept me from embracing my inner voice.

I also have to contend with my methods of obtaining inspiration from unconventional means: Marijuana helps me explore the world within, Psychedelics help me explore the world without, and Alcohol gives me the stillness, appreciation, and steady-hand to bring it all together. I play with fire when I use substances to aid in my art, but the forefathers of all arts had their vices too, for it serves a purpose. I will not answer nor apologize for my methods.

In the end, I have chosen to embody my art, no matter the cost.  

My soul shall speak.

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