Expression

Art is supposed to be a means of expressing yourself,
yet that is the aspect I hate most about it.
I hated projects in class where I had to pick songs or words or images.
Anything that meant something to me
made the project too revealing, too personal.
I preferred adding my own touches to pre-determined assignments.
I felt that the class would judge me for the choice of a simple word, a simple song, a simple lyric.
When we practiced cursive using paintbrushes, I wrote my sister's name,
and when we had to graffiti one word on cardboard (as other people chose swear words and slang words like "Triggered")
I graffitied my last name.
I did all this to avoid picking an actual word,
one that someone could look deeper and find meaning in.
Looking back on the project, I realize that the rest of the class likely held little meaning to whatever word I chose.
Yet personalizing art still makes me feel as though I am being split open,
raw for the world to see and judge.
Reading my own writing out loud—poetry, narratives, responses to prompts—
anything more personal than a lab synopsis or magazine article—
makes me want to curl up and hide.
Showing my true colors through art is an act of bravery,
for it feels as though I am giving the viewer an window to my innermost thoughts,
where I am the most vulnerable and shy.
This skill that would truly allow me to harness the power of art—
letting myself shine through my work, despite the judgement of the world—
is a courage that I have yet to master.