“You are an artist when you say you are” – I’ve come across similar opinions a lot, and it always strikes me hard.
That moment of truth; of complete self-acceptance; the moment I declare myself as an artist – that’s the ta-da moment I’ve been waiting for.
I’ve been writing for a long time now – stories, poems, articles, blog posts, technical documents, even a first draft of a novel – but I still can’t call myself a writer. I’m still a blogger.
I’m not sure what I’m waiting for, but it’s a scary thought – it’s like the ultimate announcement. Because once you’ve declared yourself as a ‘writer,’ there’s no room for sloppiness – a writer, or any artist for that matter – is a professional. Professional, as in, not suited and heavily-booted, but her work should be of a proper standard, and she should be able to take critical blows with a smile.
I know I’m not there yet, but I’m on my way.
The image is a screenshot from Brain Pickings Weekly (with their signature yellow quotation mark.)
The Chaos Within 
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