Art

Yesterday, I took a walk to the Brooklyn Bridge, a notorious tourist trap but also a beautiful and marvelous feat of engineering. I wanted to photograph it (a cliché, I know) so I can make a print for someone as a gift. Hours passed in what felt like minutes. This experience, this immersion in creation for its own sake, is what makes me call myself an artist. So when a friend of mine–who reads this blog–made an off-hand comment critical of the fact that I call myself an artist, I wasn’t offended, but it did get me thinking about: who is an artist? What makes someone an artist? Is it enough to just make art? Do you have to show it? Sell it? Call yourself an artist on your LinkedIn profile?

Writing about the process of writing offers a valuable form of meta-reflection—similar to the artist who pauses to teach and examine their craft. This recursive exploration creates opportunities for insight that might otherwise remain elusive in the forward momentum of creative production. The Value of Creative Self-Examination # Any creative pursuit benefits from periodic reflection on both process and purpose. These moments of examination invite important questions: What motivates this work? How effectively am I executing it? Does my approach align with my authentic intentions? Does the work represent my genuine vision or a compromised version of something else? Am I creating primarily for personal expression or external reception? What ultimate purpose does this creative activity serve in my life and potentially for others?

Artistic expression represents a fundamental human capacity—one that exists within virtually everyone, regardless of formal training or recognition. While our educational systems often position art as supplementary rather than central to development, the creative impulse appears deeply woven into our nature. Though I engage with creative practices regularly, I maintain a humble perspective about my own artistic abilities, viewing myself as an enthusiastic participant rather than a polished expert.

“So, what do you do?” The innocuous cocktail party question lands like a philosophical challenge whenever I hear it. My internal response: Which identity would you prefer I present today? I could truthfully answer: Software Artisan Philosopher Amateur Blogger Author Investor Entrepreneur Human With Two Dogs Computer Person Techie Nerd Former Lyft Driver Autodidact Potato Farmer I could continue this list indefinitely, but you get the idea. The question assumes a singular professional identity—a neat categorization that rarely captures the multidimensional reality of contemporary lives.