The Business of Art
My mother is an artist. She paints, sews, carves, crochets and does all kinds of very creative things that, as a child, I used to look up to with eyes of awe. I wanted to become as adept at all things artistic as she is. But, the day I picked up a crochet needle (or whatever that instrument is called!) for the first time, I knew that the particular gene has skipped a generation. Never mind, life still went on for me. I studied, scored good marks, studied more, scored better marks and kept adding to the length and dimensions of my CV. Later in my life I started drama, painting and writing as proxies to the creative legacy of my mother but neither could I be as good as she was, nor a natural as some around me were. I always wondered whether it was realistically possible to be equally good in studies as in arts. Anyways, life has its own ways, those highly creative people went to schools of art that hardly anyone ever hears about while I went to schools that makes everyone take a note and this complex of mine (about not being naturally creative) was covered up by a certain superiority complex.
