Diary of an Artist

2 min readMar 4, 2022


A new realm.

Photo by Dannie Jing on Unsplash

Stepping into a new world, a new realm, gave me just a fraction of a taste of what new worlds could possess.
Sheltered whilst hearing the doors rythm; open, close, endless days stretching for 8, 9 hours, the sun never sets here. People travel great distances, to spend 5 minutes with me, sometimes it will be the first and last time that they’ll ever see me again. 1000 suns burn through me by noon, my head spinning, my mouth on an endless treadmill — this is my world. I get £9.01 to spend an hour in my world.

But this world was different, occupied by beatniks, pirates, and mavericks. The light was cool, and casting wildly over the shadows of colour. This realm was a stark contrast from my own, beauty hiding in the creases of the walls, bustling characters chirping around windows to newer worlds. I had merely peered in, but what I saw for the first time was more than I’d seen in my whole entire life, it was a freedom that was whispering in and out of my nostrils, that got caught in the corner of my mouth as my tongue reached out to greet it.

I was more than expendable.

I was more intelligent then a drone.

I was further along than a beginner.

I was more capable than assumed.

I was an artist.




I’m 29, and live in the UK. Trying to make it as an artist in both traditional painting and writing in 2021. Dreaming of writing fiction and painting forever.