Art is a struggle.

Painting is looking at an empty white canvas questioning one's very existence, one’s competence and skills.

Painting is pouring your soul and emotions into a piece.

 

Art is a struggle.

There’s something about circling the paper with delicate vine charcoal and then blending it in with a soft cloth.

My fingers may be slightly smudged and my clothes have dark patches but it shows the hours of struggle and dedication.

They show the soul and affection that went into the art I just produced, the very art I fought against.

 

Art is a struggle.

There is always the common question or fear of art as a life choice, as a dependent for food and income.

There’s not only fear of producing something “good” but also figuring out if it will sell, the instability of the field.

But it’s not really an option for an artist because rules can always be bent and beauty can always be found.

All is needed is passion.

 

Art is a struggle.

Art is effectively conveying the emotion that was found at first.

Sharing to the world the moments that could only be captured in that second..

It is the need to make others feel the heartwarming thrill to see a child playing in a pond overwhelmed with joy. 

It is the need to show the effects of abuse or neglect, the trauma of losing someone, but also that of loving or caring for someone else.

 

Art is a beautiful struggle.

It is the struggle we need.