Diary of an Artist.

1 min readApr 4, 2022


In the depths.

Painting by Rebecca Entwistle Art

The canvas doesn’t matter.

The paints no longer matter.

What I’m doing, does it matter?

Am I fueled by ego? As it whispers it’s intent, it’s own will upon me, I am told there is a worth to some of this life that I inherited, ego’s poison seeping into me and as it trails to my most deepest depths of thought, it hijacks my mind and sends me into overdrive; a heightened state of creation, a cluttered space, having all the power but feeling void when it comes to using it.

Like staring at lightening in a bottle. Theres power, unlimited force, but its encased in a transparent forcefield, trapped, kept prisoner.

My power, my abilities, are endless, but I am sheathed in a cloth woven by my own hands, it strangles, cloys, as it encases me. I am but a maker of my own weakness, a destroyer of my own worlds.

I am both the ego, and the imposter.




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.