Art is not a kind lady

She is demanding... ruthlessly demanding

Time, attention, focus, and absolute mental energy

She takes all and leaves her mark on you

From the sleepless nights, to the constant rejections and mockery

Everyone who indulges her whims must be ready to lose bits of themselves

Art is not a kind lady

Many court her, but only a few experience her love

And to those few, that love is often coquettish 

Patience, hard work, creativity, and consistency

The love languages she swoons to, are incredibly difficult to master

Art is not a kind lady

The path to her abode is strewn with the despaired bodies of men and women

Brave, but lacking the resilience she bows to

Touched by her fingers of cruelty, and fallen into the shadows of obscurity.

To those who watch us, we seem mad

Our obsession to go on this journey, unfaltering despite the unkind hands it deals us

It's fine though... All courters of art require a bit of madness

A peculiar view of the world exclusively available to us...

The willingness to play catch up to others in this race of life.

Art is not a kind lady

But her admirers know that

We do not expect her to be, even during the moments we are overcome with anxiety

It was never meant to be easy. That is what the impostors do not understand

They try to carve short cuts which only ends in immediate and incomplete gratification

True artists forge through the rocky terrains

For they know that beyond the harsh and unfriendly journey

Lies an abundance of true bliss and euphoria

Art is not a kind lady

But I wouldn't have it any other way.