So I’m in the midst of another existential crisis of self-worth. Of course, I do believe some don’t get that fancy with the wording and refer to this as “life”. But then, I’m flowery, dammit.

I’m filling out a grant application and I have everything done. I’ve picked out the allotted ten pages that best define my work as a writer. I’ve got the i’s dotted and t’s crossed. But there is one last, teneey, tiny thing that I need to do. Answer one question in 1000 characters.

Here’s the question:

Who are you as an artist? What inspires you?

Insert existential crisis here.

First, what inspires me changes on a daily basis. It depends on the alignment of the sun and moon and stars in the sky. It depends on which friend I’ve talked to, what movie I’ve seen, what book I’m reading. It also depends on what I’m working on. For instance, if I’m editing a piece then my mind tends to be a bit more fragile and I’m not thinking much about my writing self.

Then, then there are moments that I am writing and in the thick of it and I’m amazing! I’ve never written anything better and I own being a writer and I tell everyone I’m a writer. Check out boy at the grocery store asks, “How’s your day?”

“I’m a writer, thanks for asking.” I answer.

But today, this past week, this whole idea of who are you as an artist? Really? It’s been an uphill struggle trying to just admit that I AM A WRITER.

But I suppose, things often happen in a timely manner. Looks like I need to delve a little deeper into who I am as an artist.

So for today, my thoughts run this way: I am a writer. But the heart of it is that I am an over caffeinated soul eater. I steal the soul of others. I listen to overheard conversations and build stories based on pilfered moments. I steal characteristics and immortalize them in black Times New Roman on a white page. I inhale a turn of phrase and breathe life into it amid a world of my own creating. I build experiences, I break hearts, I test the human spirit.  I do it all in an attempt to entertain. And then, because my own experience is humorous, I dip all of the soul eating in chocolate so it goes down smooth for the reader.

Hmmm, I don’t know if that’s what the judges are looking for. I’ll keep working on it.