I could never be famous.
I could never be okay with receiving messages, some very heart felt and beautiful, no doubt, that I couldn’t respond to.
It would hurt my soul, I suspect.
And so, although I suspect that my art and writing would like their time in the Sun…I don’t think I can promise them that.
I don’t do well at all when reaching out with a kind word on social media and being received with a simple love heart to acknowledge my presence. If I have taken the time to reach out with care, I expect the response to be equal to the care that I have given.
It is for this reason, perhaps, my subconscious wishes to ‘stay small.’
Perhaps, though, when I think about the millions of lives touched and saved by the worlds most precious art works and pieces of writing… I have to wonder if this is a selfish view point to take.
For, what if one line or one sketch from my very own heart was enough to save someone, or even many. Would that be a price to pay for the many down sides of fame?
It is a question very few could answer with pure integrity.
But I do wonder: what would that answer be?
Leave a Reply