Love love LOVE this. And you. I will never forget all those years ago when you gave me my fic bound as a book and wrote that note that basically said "even though other people including me have written this same story, this is yours and it's messy and wonderful and no one else's and it's ART." It meant so much to me then (especially because you knew my imposter syndrome thanks to me comparing myself to you lol) and the world needs to be reminded of how special it is to create something that is just OURS.
Loved this Shelly, thank you for sharing it. I came across that poem, too, and felt seen and heard. Just today I was in my kitchen trying to decide what to pack my kids for their breakfast boxes, simultaneously thinking, no, *seeing* in my head the hungry children of Gaza. The absurdity of the normalcy of our lives while there's a genocide unfolding is unbearable to grapple with, but this poem tried to tackle it and I enjoyed reading it.
You're right. We silence ourselves because of some arbitrary standards in our heads about what is worthy art and what not. Half of the job of the artist is shutting the critical voice in their head and getting to work, and it's an exhausting task. I try hard not to be a bitch to myself, and after several months of trying I am getting to a point where sometimes it's easier.
Also, I find that sometimes the people who feel the need to comment underneath someone shared with derogatory comments are often those too scared to create sth themselves or plagued by feelings of worthlessness when they do. Either way, the poem doesn't care. It'll find its people 🙂
oooof I felt this as someone who writes poetry *and* often self-censors! lately, I've been less committed to asking myself "is this really art?" or "is this actually a poem?" and instead asking "does this express something that feels true inside of me?" orienting around expressing emotion and truth feels better than trying to fit into some sort of definition of art or poetry. thank you for eloquently engaging in this topic!
I remembered something from this letter today and had to go back and find it. Hand on my stupid heart. I love this newsletter, and happy one week of Rules for Ghosting being out!!
Beautifully said. I appreciated this so much. As an artist and writer working on my craft, I’m always having to work at allowing myself and my art to exist in the world in all its glorious imperfection. Like you said, we each have our own unique viewpoints, and in this way no two pieces of art are the same. I also often think about the fact that our art often reaches different people, even if the audience is similar in tastes. Like, a whole different audience might stumble upon the first poem you shared, who never happened to come across the other, similar poem. As someone who is always finding books, art, and articles through very circuitous routes on the internet, I like thinking about the ways we find each other, and how it’s important that we’re still out there making our things, available to be found.
Love love LOVE this. And you. I will never forget all those years ago when you gave me my fic bound as a book and wrote that note that basically said "even though other people including me have written this same story, this is yours and it's messy and wonderful and no one else's and it's ART." It meant so much to me then (especially because you knew my imposter syndrome thanks to me comparing myself to you lol) and the world needs to be reminded of how special it is to create something that is just OURS.
I DO REMEMBER THAT
and now people are doing it without permission and selling them on etsy and this is why we can't have nice things 🙃🙃🙃
Loved this Shelly, thank you for sharing it. I came across that poem, too, and felt seen and heard. Just today I was in my kitchen trying to decide what to pack my kids for their breakfast boxes, simultaneously thinking, no, *seeing* in my head the hungry children of Gaza. The absurdity of the normalcy of our lives while there's a genocide unfolding is unbearable to grapple with, but this poem tried to tackle it and I enjoyed reading it.
You're right. We silence ourselves because of some arbitrary standards in our heads about what is worthy art and what not. Half of the job of the artist is shutting the critical voice in their head and getting to work, and it's an exhausting task. I try hard not to be a bitch to myself, and after several months of trying I am getting to a point where sometimes it's easier.
Also, I find that sometimes the people who feel the need to comment underneath someone shared with derogatory comments are often those too scared to create sth themselves or plagued by feelings of worthlessness when they do. Either way, the poem doesn't care. It'll find its people 🙂
"Either way, the poem doesn't care" YES!!! perfect way to put this. Thank you so much for reading!
oooof I felt this as someone who writes poetry *and* often self-censors! lately, I've been less committed to asking myself "is this really art?" or "is this actually a poem?" and instead asking "does this express something that feels true inside of me?" orienting around expressing emotion and truth feels better than trying to fit into some sort of definition of art or poetry. thank you for eloquently engaging in this topic!
"Does this express something that feels true inside of me" is just the perfect way of thinking about it. :)
I remembered something from this letter today and had to go back and find it. Hand on my stupid heart. I love this newsletter, and happy one week of Rules for Ghosting being out!!
Beautifully said. I appreciated this so much. As an artist and writer working on my craft, I’m always having to work at allowing myself and my art to exist in the world in all its glorious imperfection. Like you said, we each have our own unique viewpoints, and in this way no two pieces of art are the same. I also often think about the fact that our art often reaches different people, even if the audience is similar in tastes. Like, a whole different audience might stumble upon the first poem you shared, who never happened to come across the other, similar poem. As someone who is always finding books, art, and articles through very circuitous routes on the internet, I like thinking about the ways we find each other, and how it’s important that we’re still out there making our things, available to be found.