bedroom artist

The following is a draft of a writing piece that I had worked on about a year ago. I like to post old and/or unfinished work of mine for reflection purposes, or just because there’s a concept underneath it all that is so important to me, but for some odd reason I cannot add more to it. Hopefully this will distract you all from the fact that I am running late on posting my most recent Weekly Update, as I am trying to finish that up as soon as possible. Regardless, I hope you enjoy this unfinished piece of mine:


“Bedroom Artist”

As the world changes around me, I can’t help but notice that I am returning to my old ways:

Locked away, isolated, cooped up in a room.


I’m fine with being alone, really.


It is when I am alone, that I find myself at my most creative.


Depending on how the stars align and how my day has gone I either furiously type away at the keys of

my enormous laptop, or I’ll decide to paint my face.


The second option has become a rarity lately.


I don’t paint on a giant canvas, make music, or sculpt.


I furiously type away at a keyboard, hoping to make sense of my thoughts.

I record myself talking to an imaginary audience and then piece together the clips; hoping to make sense of my thoughts

Or the not so popular option as of lately:

I draw random lines and dots on my face, hoping to create something more than just my next Instagram post.


I am not a traditional artist.


I spend hours in my room, creating when no one is watching.


I am protective of my work.

I seldom share it with the exception of an anonymous fanbase of sorts… the internet.


I spend my days staring at a screen, trying to piece together my life because it is difficult for me to do so with my hands.

Some attempts are more difficult than others.

I sometimes get annoyed with the structure of a sentence or I can’t clearly write out my thoughts. Or just my hands refuse to continue to write or type.


I am a bedroom artist…

I draw inspiration from the outside world without moving as much as a centimeter past my door.



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