Incoming Beef!

I’ve been seeing a lot of advertisements, Facebook posts, Tweets, etc. about art.

I was recently watching something on the cable channel Ovation, I honestly don’t remember what, and they would break in frequently advertising that they show programs about art. Dance, painting, acting, music, singing. I see the same stuff on Facebook and Twitter – about “art” being in the above categories, pretty much exclusively.

What about writing? Writers? Aren’t we also artists? Our words paint pictures, inspire imagination, require imagination to create, and bring abstract principles to life. Why aren’t we included in the catch-all tag of “artist?”

I attended the online launch party for Jenny Lawson’s new book, _Furiously Happy_, last night. Let me tell you, that woman is an artist in the truest sense of the word. She can have you rolling on the floor laughing one moment, and sobbing your eyes out in the next. She has offered herself to her community, her fans, and the world as completely as the dancer or actor has ever done. She is real, and genuine, and despite limitations and difficulties, one of the most colorful and alive people I can think of.

So, let’s not just say that artists are dancers, actors, painters, singers, musicians. Let’s also say that writers are artists, too. My work, when I offer it up, is as much a labor of love as my friend’s paintings, or another friend’s voice.

I claim it. I am an artist. I paint with words, I sing with characters, I make music with stories. I dance with your imagination.



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