A Letter to YOU

Dear Artist,

Thank you.

Thank you for choosing to create, even when the world doesn’t always see the full weight of what that takes.

You are part of something ancient and sacred—a lineage of people who have used their hands, hearts, and imaginations to push us forward, one brushstroke, lyric, movement, and stitch at a time.

I know it’s tempting to worry about what comes next.

“Will this be enough?”

“Will anyone care?”

“Will I make it?”

But you are here, now—and that’s where the magic begins.

Today is your canvas.

It doesn’t need to be perfect. It only needs to be honest.

One of the most beautiful truths about artists is how resilient you are.

You create in small apartments, in borrowed spaces, on tight budgets, between shifts, and with recycled materials.

You innovate when there’s not enough.

You bend but don’t break.

You make meaning out of the mundane and beauty out of brokenness.

And in doing so, you remind the rest of us what’s possible when we work with what we have.

Even more powerful?

You rarely do it just for yourself.

Your art becomes a bridge.

It weaves community together, offering comfort, inspiration, and space to heal.

You sing what others are afraid to say.

You paint what others feel but can’t explain.

You write and move and build, helping us all feel a little more connected, a little more human.

If you’re feeling tired today—rest, but don’t give up.

If your art feels small—remember, even a whisper can echo if it’s honest.

If you feel alone—know that every creative before you has stood in that same space and kept going.

You’re not behind. You’re right on time.

So don’t worry about tomorrow.

Focus on today.

Create something.

Anything.

Just keep going.

The world needs what only you can bring.

With admiration,

A Fellow Believer in Your Art

By Brooke Williams