What is Your Art?

I've noticed something over the years—something absolutely hilarious.

People don’t realize when they’re artists.

Which is wild, because we all are. Every last one of us.

Think about it. We all start life twirling, drawing, coloring outside the lines with unapologetic joy. We sing at full volume (whether or not we know the words), and at some point, we all had to suffer through playing the dreaded recorder in school. Any and every two-year-old will dance, pretend, bang on pots and pans like a drum solo at Madison Square Garden—without ever stopping to wonder, “Hmm, but am I actually good at this?”

At some point, though, something shifts.

We start believing we have to be a good singer, a good painter, a good whatever to call ourselves artists. And if we’re not? We quit. Or we get insecure.

I see this all the time. Photographers who won’t charge a livable wage because they think they’re “not good enough.” Painters who sell their work for less than the cost of the canvas because they “aren’t there yet.” People who won’t even consider karaoke until they’ve had enough drinks to forget the concept of embarrassment. (For the record, my artist self prefers the cheerleader role when karaoke is involved.)

But listen.

Art is not about being good.

Art is about being.

Maybe your art is the tattoo design you dreamed up—even if you’re not the one holding the needle. Maybe your body is your canvas, sculpted through fitness. Maybe you sing, write poetry, rap, or shred the ukulele like a rock god in the making.

Maybe your art is simply raising a tiny human who does these things.

So, can we all agree on something?

We’re all artists.

Yes, even you.

And if you’re taking ukulele lessons right now—are you celebrating that fact? Because you should be. And if you want to immortalize your artistry, well... you know who to call. (Hint: It’s me. I make fine art portraits that celebrate exactly this.)

But really—this is about you.

This is your nudge today to:

🎨 Sing.
🎨 Dance.
🎨 Color.
🎨 Draw.
🎨 Appreciate nature.
🎨 Write a poem.

What else can you do?

Tap into that two-year-old version of yourself. The one who never doubted, never second-guessed, never hesitated to try something just because it looked fun.

Two-year-olds don’t understand “I can’t.” And honestly? Neither should you.

Be a two-year-old today. Even just for a moment. Get up. Move. Create something ridiculous and joyful. Stick it on the fridge with pride.

Go do it.

Go be your best artist self.