I’ve always been a little jealous of the artistic capabilities of others. I could never quite understand how someone could sit down and effortlessly draw, paint or perform. How they could take inspiration from the world and turn it into something beautiful. What I failed to realize, though, was that creative expression doesn’t always have to be bright masterpieces on a canvas. Sometimes, it exists quietly between the lines of a well-thought-out sentence.
My first moments of self expression came from creative storytelling in silly grade-school assignments. That eventually grew into the comfort I found in writing poems throughout middle school. When I look back now, I laugh and think, “Wow, I was dramatic,” but poetry was genuinely my form of self-medication. Especially during the times when I felt like I didn’t fit in anywhere.
Poetry is something I naturally fell into. While writing this article, I reread a poem I wrote about losing beautiful souls during high school. It transported me right back into the hurt of that moment, and reminded me how writing allowed me to express that pain silently, privately and safely.
Life gets busy, and sometimes months go by where I forget about my passion for writing. But whenever I neglect it for too long, I feel the effects seep into me. It’s as if my mind gently nudges me, reminding me that I’ve forgotten to take care of myself.
All of this is to say: I strongly encourage everyone to find their own niche of self-expression. Lately, my top three have been writing articles (obviously!), writing poetry and, my favorite new edition, experimenting with cinematic pieces.
Having a form of expression that exists just for you creates a ripple effect in caring for your soul. You do it because it feels good, because it lets your brain pause, because it gives you a moment to breathe. Whenever I write, I feel that release instantly. My latest poem, “The Son & The Sun,” reminded me that I don’t need to create a perfect craft every time. I just need to enjoy the moments when that creative flame is reignited.