is this art or
a thought better kept to myself
is this art or
do i just want to impress my mum
is this art or
a cry for help
is this art or
a more interesting way to get you into bed
is this art or
your childhood trauma
is this art or
is that a poem
As I’m in the midst of publishing my first book of essays and in pure anticipation of next week and people to actually read the book (we’ll start shipping tomorrow) awaiting their feedback, I think about art and writing and validation: a lot. Will people, you, like it or hate it or (worse) be indifferent? What will it feel like to have shared some of the most vulnerable moments of my life with, well, strangers? Will I allow my parents to read it? (Still have not decided on that one.)
In fact it is just dawning on me as I write this, that in only a few days a lot of myself will be out there. And I will have no way of explaining away anything you might think. It’s essentially not mine anymore.