“Crimson Joy” | Photo by Rebekah Brackett, Brackett Studios

An artist’s soul was hidden in my bones since I was a kid. Somewhere along the line, though, I believed the lie that my work was no good, that I wasn’t really a true artist because my skill didn’t look like or match others around me. For years I frustrated myself with painting and drawing. It never looked like what I saw in my head or felt in my heart. My art fell short of my hopes, dreams and expectations every single time. After a while, I put my artist’s desire in a back closet of my soul. It would pound on the door when light would bring out the beauty of simple objects or when I encountered other artists’ work. The longing to translate the emotion I felt when hearing the whisper of the Infinite could never be shut down or hidden away, no matter how hard I tried. And that is a very good thing. Because after I came to a sudden standstill in my life and the process commenced of being stripped of all I thought I was, in the ashes of me lay the soul of an artist. Joy began to bubble up from my seemingly empty belly as I went on long walks and captured nature around me through a simple lens. I could get lost for hours in the texture of leaves, the mystery of fog, and the romance between darkness and light. Then someone I barely knew gifted me a “fancy” camera, and it was like being given the stars and then forcing myself to learn Greek. Facing my fears of being technologically inadequate has been a journey. I still balk when someone asks me technical questions about my craft, but I’m learning that I am learning! It’s okay and perfectly acceptable to not know everything yet. (And really — I’ll never know everything, and that’s a lovely truth in life!) But I know so much more than I did six years ago, and most of that is due to the fact that the man who is pursuing my heart for life has taught me really well about this craft of photography. I entered his life, and he handed over his camera to me (which costs more than the value of my current car), and let me play. He was patient and open, teaching me not only about the camera itself but about post production technology. Lightroom (a photography editing program) was overwhelming at first, and now it has become my friend. Pretty soon I’ll embark on my Photoshop adventure, and I’m fairly certain my life and art will never be the same!

The point I’m trying to make with all of this is, our art doesn’t have to look or feel like someone else’s work. If you can’t draw to save your life (like me), try another medium. And heck — being entrusted with an artist’s soul isn’t limited to specific genres or mediums. It’s a way of viewing and interacting with the world around you. It’s seeing the beauty — really seeing it — in things other people completely miss. I’d like to think we’re all artists in our own unique way. So capture the glimpses of the Infinite around you. Release the emotions and stories burning in your chest through sculpture or paint or song or words or cooking dinner for your family — whatever medium brings you to life. There’s joy waiting to bubble up from within your belly — I promise! Even when life is dark and the idea of greeting one more day makes you want to lie down and die. Don’t give up; open the door to wherever you hid your longing for beauty and honest living. Your artist’s soul is in you. If I could find it again, you can, too!