And who told you you weren’t an artist? Who took that from you?
Shame on them.
Did they forget our legacy? That our bodies are made of each other, of the earth, of that great, limitless, black-diamond sky? Did they somehow miss that our very personhood, the very thing we think of as “I,” is made by the body, electric?
Maybe they forgot how good it feels, how necessary it is, to explore the internal, emotional, carnal world. Or perhaps they have learned to fear it, to cower at what is discovered of our humanity (our mortality?) in relation to the inanimate. The violent, sensual slap of hands against clay. The uninhibited joy of fingers in acrylic paint or garden soil or animal flesh. The good sorrow of the caught scent of our lost youth. The earned relief of sweat and tears and laughter. The raw, vivid, wildness of undulating hips, of our collective voices as we sing into that sparkling night.
You knew this when you came in. Clean and sure of your right to creation.
Take it back.
Don’t bow to their fear.
I don’t care if you don’t think it’s art. Of course it is. If it was born of the desire to create, made with the body, of course it is art.
Don’t ever doubt your legacy. Love the body, every body. Are we not all the inheritors of 13.8 billion years of creation?
Live like it. Sing into that unfathomable, sparkling expanse.
Take back your art.
This amigurumi moon was made with my own, personal pattern using a US F/3.75mm crochet hook and Lily Sugar ‘n Cream cotton yarn.