I'm Not Ashamed

Never doubt what those younger than you can teach you.

Somewhere in adulthood, we lose the sense of pride in our work. At least in my life, I've learned to be ashamed of the things I love, the things I do. I have always downplayed my passions for so long, but I continue to be reminded that you cannot change the world if you never speak your dreams out loud. How can you bring a smile to someone's face if you're embarrassed by your creations?

Here's a lesson I've learned: you're not breathing for you. Someone else needs you today, and if you're ashamed of who you are, that's selfish. Stories are meant to be read, painting are meant to be seen, and melodies are meant to be heard. Give your breath away.

No longer will your dreams come out only at night while, when the light is on, you've learned to become a mute. Dream big and speak even bigger.

I'm not ashamed. Are you?

Of course, it's much easier to write something than it is to say it out loud. So write it big.

But speak it even bigger.

When You're Starving

We've all been there. The computer hibernates, the piano keys get dusty, the pen's ink hardens--you just can't think of anything to do. Your creative tap has run dry, and the ideas are no longer flowing. Everything you try turns to ash, and you just can't think of anything good enough to get you going again, whether it's with a story, a song, or a painting. You're in a creative purgatory.

So take a walk. Actually get out of your room and go outside. And whatever you do, don't take your phone; that's the opposite of the goal, because the goal is to do away with all distractions so that you can get distracted. Let me explain.

The artist's job is to reflect and affect life around us. In order to do that, one must first reflect. But how can an artist reflect on something if he hasn't studied it? Creating a work of art is like taking a test while the entire time you're reflecting on what you've studied, which should be everything around you. The good news is that with this kind of test, you can take studying breaks.

So reflecting means going on experiences, observing others, and taking time to think. A visit to the zoo can give you an idea for a story and help you with research at the same time; sitting on a park bench and watching people walk, interact, and play with dogs may give you inspiration for a painting; a nice spot overlooking the sunset behind the city may drop a melody in your mind or a lyric in your lap.

As an artist you are never off duty. Ours is a full-time job. And when you've picked up the never-ending habit of reflecting, you will create something that will affect culture. And suddenly, you're not starving anymore. The creative tap is pouring faster than you can fill up your pitchers. You have countless ideas, and a limited amount of time to do them in. But as Michelangelo said, "I hope that I may always desire more than I can accomplish." What a blessing to desire more than you can actually achieve.

And all because you took a walk.

Good

What makes something good?
I don't mean a good meal that "hits the spot" but a piece of art that is really, undeniably, and inherently good? There's been some speculation recently on the nature of What's Your Story, so I would like to use this post to clear up what I (as one person) define as good art. 

For me, I divide good into three factors. You may not agree and you may see other factors, but these are the most prominent for me. When I admire any form of art, it is because the art is unique, beautiful, and excellent.

Let's start there, at unique, or another word for creativity. For a piece of art to be unique, I believe it begins at the person on the other side. Every person is unique, and so whatever they make will be a special, new creation. If your hands are unique, logically wouldn't anything to which you put your hands be unique as well? True, there is nothing new under the sun, but there are countless expressions of the stories already told. That's why in writing classes, a student will learn about archetypes, and then read of the stories that came before him, realizing that the same structures are used but a different product is produced with every person. That's unique at work. If you sit both Ernest Hemingway and J.K. Rowling in front of a desk to write the story of the Scarlet Letter, wouldn't you think that those two versions of a simple story would be so vastly different from each other's and Nathaniel Hawthorne's version?
It's just like a dancer compiling ordinary turns and leaps into a choreographed piece. Separate, none of these moves are new, but together in the brain (your brain), it's novel and special. And if they dare to go further, it's unique. Because they did something no one else has or could have done. You can improve unique more and more as long as you don't limit your imagination.
Your story is unique to you. No one else can tell it. So whatever you create will be special. Just look at this blog. All of these words have been used a million times over but never in this exact arrangement. That's all because of me. Only I could tell this story. That's unique.

What about beautiful? I am a firm believer in the old saying, "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder," but I am also a believer of universal beauty (a contradiction in the highest degree. Unique, huh?) For the defense of the former, beauty is relative, because people see beauty through different lenses, based on their unique personalities and worldviews (see how everything adds together?). Have you ever gone to an art gallery with a friend? Watch which paintings they hover over and at which you linger. Beauty is never the same. And that's the beauty of beauty.
However, there is a universally accepted tradition of beauty; if I didn't say that, I would be lying. Just look at famous models, the Mona Lisa, or Aurora Borealis. So how do I reconcile this contradiction? Well, I realize that, according to art at least, this standard most people call beauty is actually known as excellence. If a host of people can agree that a statue is beautiful, they usually are referring to it being well-done. Beyond that, the beauty of the sculpture is seen in different perspectives; they may all see it beautiful, but some more than the others. So, this standard is not a problem at all for beauty anymore. If excellence is universal, that makes beautiful relative.
So beautiful is opinionated. And if all three aspects are extremely strong, nearly every person in the world will say, "That is beautiful." Picasso is a famously controversial topic because his work is regarded as beautiful, even though everything within the frame appeals to ugliness. His most famous works are the opposite of beauty, and yet they are loved. If it's true that they are beautiful, then the beauty came from his own heart. And where does creativity come from? You. (Refer back to the paragraph on unique if you must.)
Beautiful is when your entire heart is bared on a canvas or a stage or in a song. It's that moment when someone reads a poem they wrote that emanates from their very soul, and the only reaction in the room is "That was beautiful." Your heart can touch other hearts. And every heart is unique, so all hearts will be touched by beautiful in infinitely different ways. That's why we need so many artists. There's always someone out there who gets us.

So what about excellence, that universal poster child for good? That's the hardest aspect of making something good, in my opinion. A lot of creations will lack this, and that's okay.  As I said earlier, there is a universal standard for what is excellent. However, even this can be challenged. If art has a standard of excellence, then where does that standard come from? Popular opinion? Maybe. It's a lot easier to tell when something's bad than when it's good. To me, excellence, as you'll see, is just the bare bones of the technique. So maybe that's all that the standard is. Pretty shaky, huh? That's why I favor the approach to relativity in art. And yet, somehow, we can all agree when something looks right.
Excellence is a process that you should strive for every day. If you wake up thinking you've already achieved excellence, you've actually only failed, because excellence means constantly bettering yourself. It's never finished. It's impossible to arrive at perfection, but excellence is pretty darn close. Excellence isn't just a better synonym for good; it means to be superior in an area. So how do people become superior in an area?
Simply learning and practicing. You do know Da Vinci had to learn how to paint once right? It's easy to forget that. After learning how to go about doing the art form, you must practice it. Concert pianists practice every day, touring ballerinas stretch every day, and Broadway performers sing every day. If they don't, they're fools. To me, excellence is when someone has first put in the necessary work to learn the art form, is then diligent in creating the said art form time and time again (practice doesn't make perfect, but it can make excellence), and finally, is ruthless in pushing themselves to go even further than they thought they could go. I know what my bar of excellence is, and I sure know when I don't hit it. Do you?
So to be excellent, you have to learn the craft. You can't go onstage for the first time and deliver a Shakespeare soliloquy, bringing the audience to tears (unless you have amazing talent, which I'll get to in a second). You have to learn it and hone it through practice. And even then, talent comes into play (told you). Talent is a vague word for what can be called your inherent abilities. Your talent is what you have been created to do. Talent helps you reach excellence, because it helps makes you, for lack of a better explanation, good at something. In what would take people years to perfect, you might have done in a month. Talent alone doesn't define anything however; it just helps. But even without talent, a bad writer can become a good writer, a good writer a great writer, and a great writer an excellent one, all through learning the craft (no one wants to see a misspelled title (unless it's deliberate. Which would be unique)), practicing the craft, and pushing yourself to be the best you can be in the craft. If you're not trying to be the best you can be at what you do, then why are you doing that thing? It had better not be for the applause. The applause always dies down. Your hard work doesn't. And by the way, fighting for excellence? It shows. People can see it.

So after working towards a standard of excellence, which certainly shows, your art is considered beautiful by those whose hearts are touched by yours. All because your heart is unique.

And not everyone will see it as beautiful, by the way. When you fight for something, more often than not, you encounter resistance. You will be attacked, You will be made fun of.
Do you know how many times I've been made fun of for What's Your Story? Don't let that stop you from something beautiful. Even if only one person finds it beautiful, that's pretty worth it.
Don't we all need a little beauty in an otherwise ugly life?

Now, some final thoughts. It's very possible to love an art form but be no good at it. I say with my whole heart to still go for that art form and create it. I can't paint, but that doesn't stop me. I know no one is going to buy my paintings, but sometimes, since beauty is in the eye of the beholder, someone will find something I did good. Because they see that I pushed myself with practice and told my own story.
Told you. It shows.

Another thought (or warning, if you will): it is also possible to create art without one of the attributes.
Without unique? You might know it by the familiar term of imitation. Don't copy someone else. Trust your own genius and create your own story. Someone else's just won't do for what you need to tell your own story.
Without excellence? That's called laziness, and it's the bane of an artist's existence. Don't you dare use your talent or the fact that you are unique to opt out of excellence. That is the coward's way out. Anyone can do that. What will you do?
Without beautiful? That's called trash. Usually if something lacks beauty, it's because it's something so opposite of beauty that it's utterly grotesque to you and your story. Instead of revealing their heart, the artist is attacking yours. We have all encountered artists like this. They're loud, they're angry, and they're full of hate. Don't be the excellent trash. Throwing out beautiful doesn't make you more unique.

So, after a long explanation, I call "art" an expression of creativity. Your creativity. But I also call good art an expression of creativity that is simultaneously excellent, beautiful, and unique.
But What's Your Story isn't about pushing you to excellence or finding masterpieces, and it's certainly not about encouraging mediocrity or inflating self. As supporter Cody Hill said, "It's about doing something creative, whether it meets a standard of excellence or not." It's about encouraging people that it's okay to fail, and that even if it's not excellent, the chances are that someone will find it beautiful.
One time, my friend pulled out an old painting that had been in the closet for years because they thought it was bad, and my other friend couldn't believe why it had been placed in a closet in the first place. The painting was then given as a gift, and it's still hanging on that second friend's wall to this day. You have to believe that someone will love what you create that much because hearts love hearts. But only if you find it good first.

And why shouldn't you? It's unique to you, isn't you? Because you're unique. And that's something to celebrate.

It's certainly a good starting point.

Reignite

Extroverts, Introverts, Ambiverts, whoever you are, you all experience the very familiar feeling of exhaustion. Not just physical exhaustion but entire emotional, mental, and physical exhaustion. It's that moment when you can't get out of bed because your body is so tired, you can't cry because your emotions are deadened, and you can't think because your brain has shut down. If you are an introvert and you feel low, you lock yourself up in your room and read a book. If you're an extrovert and you feel low, you find some friends and make a memory. Both simple and effective solutions. But, for me, at this stage of complete and utter exhaustion, creating is the thing that energizes.

If you feel numb, then turn back to a hobby or occupation that always makes you feel something. Return to what you love, because it loves you too. What you love isn't only there for the good times. That wouldn't quite be love, would it? Art is there when you're alone and don't know what else to do. It takes a lot of willpower to get out of that bed and go outside, but it only takes a little bit of willpower to grab a notebook and pen and write a poem in your bed. It's a little bit of sacrifice for a lot of results.

It can jumpstart your emotions when they feel dried up, because pursuing your passion will always reignite your passion. It can exercise your brain both in times when you hit a creative wall and don't know what else to do with your story, your sketch, or your dance and also when your thoughts are moving faster than the speed of the pen. It can even help your physical exhaustion, which is usually a side-effect of emotional or mental exhaustion. And all of this comes with the simple drive of returning to what you love.

What ignited your desire for a particular art form in the first place? Because every time you return to it, your passion will be reignited, even stronger than before. You are a flame, constantly in motion, ever changing, and every time you neglect the things you love, the embers die down. The moment you feel exhausted is the moment the flame has grown so small that you can see it no longer, and all that is left is to feel meaningless.

Have you felt this moment before? I have. It's not an evil moment, however. Because without the fading of the flame, the glorious reigniting of the passion wouldn't be as captivating or beautiful.

I think the best part is stepping back and taking in what you've created, allowing the melody to resonate or the paint to dry. You should be proud. Even in a time of complete apathy, you created something beautiful. That's something to be proud of and take joy in. It's a lot easier to sleep at night knowing that you did something good that day, that you created something worthwhile. Especially if it's something that might inspire someone else. That's worthwhile. Don't let that feeling fade.

But even if you do...you'll get the joy of reigniting it all over again.

Freedom to Fail

Cheers to all the perfectionists.

If you don't know what that means, you aren't one. A perfectionist is someone who demands perfection in themselves and especially in their work. At the worst case scenario, a perfectionist can also demand perfection in their surroundings, environment, and friends, and it can become crippling. At the best, a perfectionist can nearly drop a project entirely when they make a mistake.

If you know you're a perfectionist, it's probably because you've heard people say "just let it go" and "why is this bugging you?" or even "it's not that big of a deal" all your life. Why? Because at the core of perfectionism, your standard for excellence is higher than your peers, and they just don't understand that. Before I go on with the dangers of perfectionism, I want you to hear me: don't you ever lower your standard for excellence. It's high for a reason. Because you are the only one that can reach that height. It's not an unattainable goal, and it certainly won't be perfect, but it's excellence. Be proud of that.

Now, perfectionism can also be paralyzing. Either an idea never moves from your mind because you are too afraid to put mistake-caked hands to a perfect image in your mind, or the idea moves to creation, and there has already been a mistake. The former is a paralyzing fear of failure, and the second is a devastating reality of failure. I don't know from where the idea of perfection came in our society, but there is a simple cure. In fact, the cure is the ailment: mistakes.

You don't have to be perfect.

If you want to make art perfect, then you are in the wrong field. Art is a firsthand representation of humanity, and humanity, you guessed it, is flawed. Therefore, art will have mistakes. Do you think Da Vinci didn't make a mistake when he painted the Mona Lisa, that his hand didn't shake at least once? The reason the Mona Lisa exists is because Da Vinci allowed the possibility of mistakes and created something beautiful, a famous masterpiece. He also had years of experience which is a fancy way of saying, he made some mistakes. By that point, he knew how to deal with the mistakes or how to not make them. Being a master at something doesn't mean you never make mistakes, it only means you know what to do when you encounter them.

Perfectionism is a gift and a curse. You will fight for all you can to reach that standard of excellence, but you have to be okay with not being perfect. In other words, make a mistake. I guarantee you, if you make a mistake, it will either end up being the most significant piece of your masterpiece that you wouldn't change for the world or you will simply learn from it and move on. You don't have to make mistakes, but you are allowed to.

So pick up that novel you've been working on, that painting you've been thinking about, or that tune you've been humming. Then go to your safe place, close the door, and create. In that room, there is no judgement. You can make whatever mistake you want, and it's not any less art than when you began. It's amazing what you'll find you can do behind closed doors. You discover the freedom to fail. And something beautiful emerges--it always does.

And then, when you've mastered the freedom to fail, open the door, let the world in...

And fail some more.

Soliloquy for Curiosity

Curiosity’s Soliloquy

By Kim Camacho

"I remember her like a sunset.

Vibrant in color and mysterious in form.

Here, for a painted moment.

A mere brushstroke of enthrallment.

And then as quick as she lit up, so natural and bright,

she fell into the horizon of red, blue and starry dreams.

And with the strength of an eagle, flew far, far away into the golden hue of opportunity.

I watched as humble sight-seeing became violent vision matches.

As the universe became a racetrack of panthers with asses for heads.

How the wisest and boldest of men became the prey of the money-bagging hyenas; watching, waiting for contraptions of genius to spur out of the flower pot heads, only then to be plucked out from the stem to the roots; Leaving barely any soil left for planting new seeds of thought.

I saw the sculptured ideas of artists become the constructed advertisements for illusionists.

I watched a beautiful idea become transformed by the possibility addict and his companion, the boldness junkie.

Adventure became manipulating women who allowed for no wrong turns.

Conversation has become an electric fruit that Eve and Adam couldn’t even resist.

And the world has learned to be content with the plastic, medicated joy and drunken success they think they have achieved. But worst of all, I have become a distant memory.

My love doesn’t even think about me any more.

She is too consumed in facts and logic and information that she has forgotten the source of those elements.

She has forgotten that all those are paths not destinations. And they lead to an idea not an item.

My love tells answers rather than seeks truth.

And truth is the only way to make a thought an idea.

Truth makes books into stories.

Paintings into feelings.

Technology into advancements.

Truth is also the only way to discern between a fact and a lie.

Truth is a beautiful enlightenment, and my love is lacking this beacon of life.

I can see it in her plastered face and famined form.

In her hopeless eyes and deafened ears.

I see how you hurt my love, and oh how I wish I could go back to that shore where you first appeared on the horizon.

Full of vibrance and innocent rays of warmth.

So much hope in your pure face.

You may not know, but it was at this moment that I came to be.

I am yours. You brought out the best in every part of me.

And killed everything I was.

But I still love you.

And you can bring it back, my twisted moon dance.

My peculiar masterpiece.

My intriguing perception.

You can bring my glory back if you wish.

Only if you wish.

But ah, my darling, I cannot make you.

It is your decision and yours alone.

You have allowed me to fade in the darkness as the poison of contorted notions has overtaken your light.

I cannot make you shine, I cannot give you joy, I cannot exist in a state of “okay.”

I can only live if there is a longing and something to long for.

And when there’s nothing to long for, nothing to discover, no truth to be learned…

Then I, your precious and ever waiting, curiosity, must remain in the shadows. Until I once again shine brighter than the darkness."

New Year's Every Day

"May every sunrise hold more promise and may every sunset hold more peace."

Now is the allotted time every American understands; Christmas is past, and New Years Day is around the corner. Do you have any resolutions?

Or maybe the question is, what type of New Year's celebrator are you? You might be one of those people who lives for resolutions (whether you finish them or not is an entirely different matter), or you might not care for them at all. Whichever you are, it is not about the resolutions. At the core of New Year's, the concept is simply that the year is about to be over, and you have a blank canvas in front of you. You can paint whatever you want. New Year's is just an idea that...

Change is possible. If you don't like something about yourself, change it. But rather than making a resolution to stop doing something, make a resolution to start doing something that counteracts what you don't like about yourself. Instead of stopping wasting your time with one activity, make a resolution to every time you want to do that thing, you read a book instead or go on a walk.

But it's not that easy, is it? As human beings, the one thing you can count on is the devoted promise that we make mistakes. So I am here to propose the idea that maybe New Year's isn't just on one day, that you don't get just one chance to be who you want to be, but a hundred, a thousand, a million. Every day is a new day, a smaller blank canvas waiting for you to create who you are. You have a countless amount of new chances and opportunities in front of you, so that you can keep making mistakes until you get it right. And you will, especially with help.

So this next year, New Year comes every day.

Don't give up. Make those resolutions or not but always remember that each day is a new chance with new opportunities and new choices to make. You alone decide who you want to be. Take it one step at a time, one day at a time; don't tackle the entire empty mural of a year but take the days one canvas at a time until the mural is complete. It will be hard but do not give up. If no one else tells you in this death-filled world, I am proud of you. You can do anything, because at the start of a new day, there is the promise that anything is possible, and at the end of that new day, there is the peace that you did your absolute best. At the start of a new day, you can be whoever you want to be. So why wait until one midnight?

New Year's starts today.