reflection: the art of me

October 20, 2011

i received two emails from two dear friends exactly one week apart from each other.

the first one wrote,”I’ve been crazy busy but wanted to let you know I read your work and I like how you are developing. You have lovely sentiments and great energy. Please keep that.”

the second one wrote, “why aren’t you publishing your work and giving motivational speeches? you have A LOT of potential.”

i have received five rejection letters from publishers this year. and the only reason i haven’t received more is because i stopped submitting during my illness to focus on healing. i don’t mind the rejection. it puts me that much closer to my goal.

most importantly, the publishing isn’t an indicator of my art’s worth. the worth is in the art of me.

what is the art of me? the ability to write and share, open and honestly, the things most are afraid to speak about: fears, injustices, set backs, missed opportunities, mistakes made once (twice), pain, love, family…

i write because it allows me to heal in places where fresh air doesn’t blow to scab wounds. i write because in writing i let go of the things that hold on to me. i write to share a joy that my heart cannot contain. i write because in writing i defend and protect the innocent. i write because it is my weapon of mass reconstruction. i rebuild the broken pieces of me in every word i write down that speaks to my truth.

so, yes… i will continue to write to improve the skill. but the art of me is perfectly flawed. and yes, i will be published not because it will give worth to my work but because my work has that much worth.

~Sarahí Yajaira, 2011

Writer’s Note: To all the artists out there, continue to paint, sculpt, sing, write, dye, speak words, do your thing. Your ultimate goal will come to life because you give it life.