Make the Art.

Don’t worry about whether it’s good or bad.

It’s going to bad sometimes.

It’s going to mediocre sometimes.

And just maybe it’ll be great sometimes too.

Make the Art.

This is a practice.

Again and again.

It feels like you have run out of time.

It feels entirely pointless

It feels futile.

Do it anyway.

This too is practice.

You are fortunate enough to have a roof over your head, a lover to share your bed, and food to eat.

And time.

The true luxury.

You have time.

Make the art.

Don’t worry about anything else.

Who else is in you position?

No one else like you.

Find your song and sing it.

Sing it like no one is listening

(They aren’t)

Sing like you are nobody.

(You are)

Sing it like you don’t give a fuck if the neighbors hear you.

Sing it like you can’t stop yourself

(You probably can’t. You definitely shouldn’t)

Make the damn art.

Be the tree in the empty forest no one hears.