Bringing The Artist Back

I sympathize with a lot of people of my generation or, more specifically, my batch.

In grade school and high school, we considered ourselves highly in tune with our artistic side. I, for one, was well into sketches while the others were involved in music, singing, dancing, and the other performance arts.

But then we grow up. And we take on jobs which have no use for these talents. A dichotomy gradually forms itself, splitting our being into two: the professional self and the playful, exuberant, yet utterly "useless" artistic self. Over time, if one is not careful, he loses the other self and relegates it to a nostalgic vision of the person he once was.

It's sad. Yet it only goes to show that as we pick up new skills, old talents have to be discarded. 

So to remedy the loss, we rebel and hang on to the artist within us. We cling tenaciously to it as if it were life itself. Some go into choirs and sing. Others set up a weekend band and practice playing songs or, even better, composing songs. Some perpetuate a hobby of doing sketches or paintings for several days a week. Others go into acting workshops or join dancing lessons with friends.

And there is one who maintains a blog, harnessing his writing skills, smiling glumly at the fact that, for reasons only known to him, bringing the artist back is a struggle worth its due.