Confessions of The Scribe.
When is the right moment for one to embrace the label for what they do? The obvious answer is that if a person is actively doing one action every single day, then they are that. If someone dedicates time daily practicing the piano, then usually, that will make them a pianist. Even more so if they’re recognized for that action by the general public. If one practices the piano and eventually decides to do concerts, then eventually they will be recognized, by large, a pianist. I can grasp this idea when it comes to anyone and anything else. From hobbyists to professionals, whenever I’d see anyone claim their passions as a part of their identity and embrace the labels of it—it was a no brainer. Yeah, you create trinket dishes with air dry clay, so in my mind, you are definitely an artist. But for some reason and for quite some time in my life, I could not bring myself to say that I was a writer. There was a distance between myself and the title ‘Writer’, so vast that the natural act of it couldn’t bridge the gap in my head and heart. What’s funny about that is that there have been fewer periods in my life where I wasn’t scribbling in a journal or drafting a story for my own enjoyment.
