A Soul Like This Is Built to Last

For years I thought I had to choose.

Painter.

Illustrator.

Designer.

Maker.

As though becoming one thing was the only way to be taken seriously.

So I kept trying on different names.

Some fit for a while.

Some didn't.

Every time I thought I'd finally found the right box, I'd outgrow it.

For a long time I mistook that for failure.

Now I think I was simply still becoming.

Looking back, I don't see someone who couldn't make up her mind.

I see someone who kept following her curiosity, even when it didn't make much sense to anyone else.

Sometimes it led me to fashion.

Sometimes to paper.

Sometimes to petals.

Sometimes to painting.

Sometimes to things I haven't even found a name for yet.

None of those paths were a detour.

They were all teaching my hands something different.

Patience.

Play.

Discipline.

Wonder.

How to begin again.

People often celebrate the finished work.

I'm more interested in what the work asks of the person making it.

To keep showing up.

To keep learning.

To keep starting over without becoming bitter about it.

I don't think a soul is built in the moments when everything finally makes sense.

I think it's built every time you begin again.

Every time you make something even after doubting yourself.

Every time you refuse to become smaller just because it's easier for other people to understand.

Maybe that's why I no longer worry about fitting neatly into one box.

A garden doesn't apologise for growing in different directions.

Neither does curiosity.

And perhaps a soul like this was never meant to fit inside a single definition.

It was built to keep growing.

— Dura Ki Hana