Here Are 40 Life Lessons I Have Gathered Along The Way!

 

As I reflect on my journey and celebrate this milestone, I am deeply grateful to God for the gift of life, love, and growth. Life is a precious and unpredictable adventure, and through it all, I’ve come to understand the importance of faith, family, patience, and perseverance. These are the things that truly matter—the ones that ground us and remind us of our purpose.

Choosing to celebrate my 40th birthday in Cape Town filled my heart with joy and gratitude, marking a beautiful chapter of celebration. It also served as a powerful reminder of how quickly time flies. Looking back at my post from when I turned 30, it feels like it was just yesterday. This has taught me to cherish every moment, for life moves faster than we realize.

Here are 40 life lessons I’ve gathered along the way, lessons that have shaped me and continue to guide me as I embrace this new chapter:

1. People come and go, let them, and don’t take things personally.
2. Take responsibility for your happiness, don’t wait for others to bring it to you.
3. Every challenge is an opportunity to learn and grow.
4. Be kind to yourself—progress is rarely a straight line.
5. People can be mean and may even wish for your downfall, but don’t let their negativity consume you. Continue doing good and staying true to your values, it’s your light that matters most.
6. Don’t compare your journey to anyone else’s; everyone has their own timeline.
7. Make time for things that bring you peace, whether it's nature, hobbies, or loved ones—time is valuable, and it goes by fast.
8. Success isn't just financial; it’s about balance and fulfillment too.
9. Surround yourself with people who uplift and inspire you.
10. Change is inevitable; learning to adapt is key.
11. Let go of grudges—they weigh you down more than they affect others.
12. Celebrate small victories as much as the big ones.
13. Invest in experiences rather than things; memories last a lifetime.
14. Forgive yourself for past mistakes; they’re part of your growth.
15. Practice gratitude daily; it’s the simplest way to find joy.
16. Learn to say “no” without guilt; your time and energy are precious.
17. Listen more than you speak; it opens you to new perspectives.
18. Set boundaries to protect your mental and emotional health.
19. Never stop learning; curiosity keeps you young at heart.
20. Laughter truly is the best medicine—find humor wherever you can.
21. Patience is a virtue; sometimes the best things come with time.
22. Stay humble; we’re all human and constantly evolving.
23. Focus on the present; worrying about the past or future wastes energy.
24. Don’t let fear hold you back; comfort zones are meant to be expanded.
25. Protect your peace by removing negativity from your life.
26. Trust your intuition; it’s often your most honest guide.
27. Acknowledge and honor your feelings, even the tough ones.
28. Love deeply but don’t lose yourself in others.
29. Rest is productive, don’t burn yourself out chasing goals.
30. Let yourself be vulnerable; it leads to genuine connections.
31. Treat others with respect, even when they don’t deserve it.
32. Give without expecting anything in return; kindness is its own reward.
33. Adapt your goals as you grow, your dreams may evolve.
34. Be intentional with your time; it’s the one thing you can never get back.
35. Don’t dwell on the “what ifs”; focus on what is.
36. Find something you're passionate about and pursue it wholeheartedly.
37. Prioritize health and well-being; without it, everything else falls apart.
38. Value solitude; it’s where you find clarity and self-discovery.
39. Accept that not everyone will understand you, and that’s okay.
40. All things work together for my good; do things trusting and believing in God.

Writing this In My 30s Before I Turn 40

 

I am afraid. Once again, I find myself on the brink of a new decade as I will be turning 40 in just a week. Before I wrap up my thirties, I thought I would come here to write down my thoughts, as I’ve always loved to do. At a point, I started being afraid to write but when I realized that nobody was looking it gave me a sense of relief and honestly, the encouragement I needed to share. There is a beauty in the silence of knowing that I don’t have an audience and that nobody cares which allows me to be able to write again.

It’s crazy how I’ve imagined a world that feels so far-fetched… picturing myself living a life that is completely out of reach. Eventually, it sinks in that I haven’t achieved any of it and that I probably never will. Maybe that’s the beauty of books and movies: they let you imagine what life could have been. If not your own, you get to experience another life by imagining and partaking in someone else’s. You imagine a life well-lived, and at some point, these imaginings even intertwine with your memories.

Sometimes the memories you plant and envision for yourself feel so real… because, in the end, your past becomes a memory. It no longer feels as tangible as it once was, in the same way that a thought, once written or dreamed, is never real or part of the present. Neither can you determine the future because, in truth, the future is never really promised but just planted as a hope in your memory that you keep on reliving as if it were real and yet it is not. The one thing we can only know for certain is now—the present moment. It’s the only feeling that is undoubtedly real, and you can’t debate it.

So, if I were to live my life like I only had today, how would I live it?

I think about my life’s journey and how, depending on where I met someone, they know me differently. Just the other day, my sister ran into someone I had also met and I asked her if they remembered or asked about me, she said they did, and she told me they had saved my number as Sylvia from Cambridge. That got me reminiscing about the year I lived in Cambridge, UK. I thought about how my American friends call me Kenyan, while I call them my Americans because I lived in the U.S. for five years. It's funny cause some of my cousins still refer to me as their cousin from America, which is funny to me because the reality is, that I am from Kenya and was only in America for a short time.

I think about how my primary school, growing up my friends nicknamed me Damascus because I made trips to Damascus during the holidays. When they’d ask, “Where’s this from?” the answer was always Damascus. I did most of my shopping from there, everything to the tee, like my pencil and sharpeners came from Damascus, such that everything I owned was unique to me. You never really think about the influences of all the places and interactions that shape you over time, yet those experiences create the memories of the person you are today including the bits and pieces of the cultures you adapt while there.

It hit me: I am a TCK (third-culture kid). My experiences are unique to me. All my life, I’ve wondered why I don’t feel like I belong and why I feel so different from my peers. Sometimes, I’d suppress parts of myself to relate better to others, even though I’ve spent most of my upbringing in Kenya. I realized there’s never been one person I can fully relate to, except for my siblings, especially my sister Beryl since she is closer to me in age and has been around me the longest… It’s no wonder we’re so close. I never thought about how growing up in different cultures would intertwine to create a unique culture that is truly my own.

I also reflect on my career, how I’ve switched paths so often, and wonder: Who am I today? What happens to all the different versions of me I’ve been before?

I was first known as an artist in primary school, everyone loved and remembers me for my drawings, besides my drawings, I always aced my classes. In fact, I was always one of the top students but that changed drastically after a tragic accident that scarred my face, leaving me traumatized. I never like to talk about the accident as for the longest time it was an been an experience I never really addressed, at least not fully, the impact it had in my life was huge. At the time when it happened, I was only nine years old battling the scars of my damaged face and was admitted in the hospital for months. I was blind for weeks and didn’t know if I would ever see again at the time. I suffered a concussion and missed a lot of school. When I finally returned, my scars were visible, and other children found them scary. I was called ugly, and I was hated and feared, most ran away from me when they saw me, and even called me names. The insults stuck with me, as you can imagine that phase of my life was traumatic and it changed me completely as a person. It was a tough period in my life that affected my performance in school. I was very insecure and I had to grow through that season accepting that I was no longer the beautiful, and smart person I knew before, the person I was before died in that accident, my life had completely changed and survival for me now meant something else. Despite all my insecurities, it meant that I had been given a second chance at life and I applaud my family for helping me through that dark period as they saw me for who I was, besides my scars. Of most importance, I learned to always spot out the ‘singled out child’ everywhere I went. I learned the importance of needing a friend, of giving love when it matters most, because honestly, we all need love in this world, especially children. I learned that as much as children are innocent, they can also be the meanest and most hurtful beings that can truly break you as a person, as they do not understand the purpose of filtering.

In high school, I focused on my sciences, believing I wanted to be a doctor, I abandoned my love for the arts. At the time, my passion stemmed from the times I spent in the hospitals at my younger age. I fell in love with the work doctors and nurses did. I spent time in their offices as they would allow me to play doctor. So much so that despite my struggles in classes and discouragement from my teachers, I pursued pre-med and even studied nursing. I think about how funny it is when people from my high school ask why I never took art in school when they now see my art. It’s like they are meeting a different version of me because they never really knew me as an artist, the person I suppressed, and they still seem confused by my choices today as I had only been passionate about being a doctor then. If they had known I was chasing a doctor's dream as it was a promise I had yet to fulfill that I once made to my younger self. A promise to save a child like me, the same way the doctors and nurses did for me as they restored my eyesight, not only that, I made it out of the accident alive, and I was able to continue living my life.

Some people will never meet that version of Sylvia who did science and wanted to be a doctor. They can’t imagine me in a lab coat dissecting, under a microscope, or studying anatomy… naming the parts of a skeleton. Some will never know the version of me who walked the hospital corridors in scrubs. On the other hand, others are bewildered by my artistic adventures, asking, “When did you learn to draw? I never knew you could draw” It sometimes feels like these two people are separate from each other and lived two different worlds apart, yet, it is still me.

Then there are times like now, when I write, and I remember my English professor, is the first person who always encouraged me to pursue writing. Dr. Varn restored my passion for writing, otherwise, I never would have considered myself a writer. I still keep my writing a secret, it’s the one thing I fear to embrace. When you see me write, know that I do it in the confidence of my professor, Dr. Varn, who encouraged and trusted in my writing and unveiled a piece of me that others never saw, this version of Sylvia that somehow exists. It makes me remember those who still ask about my women’s magazine and why I stopped publishing it. I also think about the people who remember me for my impact on schools and digital library endeavors, and they wonder what happened, and why I stopped, and then I realize that’s another part of me I have chosen to suppress, and it's mostly not by choice but circumstance.

When it comes to relationships, I have learned that there is solace in oneself and that peace can be found in contentment. I am content with being alone and embracing the quiet understanding that peace is a gift. What fills my cup are the sweet romances found in stories of hopeless romantics. Stories that stir my memories and warm my heart. There’s nothing quite like a beautifully told love story. Despite the absence of love in my life, I still love love. My love lives on through others, and I get to experience it through their stories, their memories, and even my own whether once lived or imagined.

Despite each of these different chapters in my life, I am reminded that every version of me, every phase of my life, matters and makes me who I am today. The different versions of me make me think that in every contribution made, whether minimal or big, they have been impactful. At least I hope so, that someone, somewhere out there appreciates me, and to me that alone is enough to feel accomplished. I want to say bye to my thirties as I will soon be welcoming my forties if God wills, and I hope that while I grow older, I remember that as I have lived as many different versions of myself, I am glad that I get to pick and choose which one of me you get to meet. Cheers to that!

A Twilight Dream

I miss the days when my life felt like a simple twilight dream, where joy came effortlessly from the small, beautiful simplicities of life. Back then, the world felt slower, softer, untouched by the need to please or impress. The days were not shadowed by expectations, nor were they governed by the ticking of a clock that measured success by the standards of ambition. Life was just a quiet rhythm of moments—moments that held their own magic, unsullied by the weight of goals yet to be achieved.

Those days seem distant now, almost like the fading hues of a sunset, just out of reach, but still visible in my mind’s eye. I can still remember what it felt like to exist without constantly wondering if I was enough. Enough for the world, for others, for myself. There was a time when my heart was light, when the sound of laughter or the sight of the first light of dawn was enough to fill me with joy. Now, those feelings are buried beneath the ever-growing layers of expectations—expectations that I have come to carry as if they were mine all along, but in truth, they were imposed. Imposed by a world that measures worth by ambition and success, a world that tells us that if we are not striving toward something, we are nothing.

How many of us have bought into that belief? How many of us have allowed ourselves to become consumed by a vision of the future, always chasing, never fully arriving? We walk this path, constantly busy, heads down, eyes focused on the horizon, hoping to achieve something great. But in doing so, we often lose sight of the beauty that surrounds us in the here and now. I know I have. There are days when I wonder what could have been if I had not been caught in the race to become more. What if I had allowed myself to just be, to bask in the joy of the present moment without the burden of ambition weighing down my every step?

And yet, I know that ambition is not inherently bad. It can push us to grow, to explore the far reaches of our potential. But the defeat that comes with unmet expectations—it is that which lingers. The defeats that are not even memories, but rather dreams that never came to be. Creations of the mind, shaped by the desire to meet a standard I was never sure I wanted to follow in the first place. A world that demands we run ever faster, ever farther, without pause to catch our breath. And in that running, it is so easy to lose ourselves.

I wonder, as I often do in these quiet moments, what it would take for the world to slow down again. I wonder, maybe, just maybe, if God loved me enough, He would answer the prayers I once thought myself worthy of. There was a time when I believed in the power of those prayers, believed that if I was good enough, if I followed the right path, those prayers would be answered. Maybe I thought that by being good, I could earn my dreams. I could dream a life worthy of being lived, worthy of a love so strong that I would lose myself in it, utterly and completely.

But could it be that I am only imagining such a life? Could it be that this wish I hold so dearly will never be fulfilled? It’s a thought that stirs deep within me—an uncomfortable thought that breeds envy, anger, and desire all at once. It’s a wish so tightly wrapped in expectation that it can’t help but entangle me in its snare. Maybe that’s the real curse, this binding of the mind to a vision that may never manifest. A vision of love, of success, of peace—each one a figment of a reality I may never touch.

I wonder if I am alone in this, or if others, too, find themselves lost in their own visions. We live in a world that tells us to dream big, to wish for more, to strive endlessly. But at what cost? How many of us are caught in this endless loop of wanting and waiting? I swim in this loop, constantly moving, constantly hoping. Hoping that maybe, just maybe, if I wish hard enough, if I pray hard enough, it will come to pass. That one day, my dreams will take form, will become real, will become my life.

But for now, I exist in the in-between—a place where hope dances with doubt, where I am neither here nor there. I dance in this pretense, pretending that I am content, that the loop of maybes is enough to sustain me. Maybe, just maybe, one day, I will wake from this twilight dream, and it will no longer be a dream but a reality. Perhaps, one day, I will step out of the shadows and into the light of a dream fulfilled.

Until then, I wait. I wait in this space of endless maybes, caught between what is and what could be. I wait, because what else can I do? There are moments when the weight of waiting feels unbearable, moments when I want to give in, to let go of the dream entirely. But something keeps me holding on—perhaps it is the hope that lives deep inside of me, the hope that whispers that maybe, just maybe, this dream is worth waiting for.

And so, I wait. I wait with the quiet understanding that dreams take time, that they do not always manifest when we want them to, but in their own time, in their own way. I wait with the knowledge that life is not about rushing toward a destination, but about the journey we take to get there. Perhaps that is the true meaning of this twilight dream—to teach me to slow down, to be present, to find joy in the journey itself.

Because maybe, just maybe, the journey is the dream. And that, in itself, is enough.

Life's Fragility and the Quest for Meaning: Making Every Beat Count

 

Digital Painting by Sylvia Oloo

We forget that life is fragile. That all it takes for it to end is the stop of a beat. That we are one day here and the next we are gone, so what then are we doing with our life? Do we care to make a difference in the world; do we care to make our presence known? Or are we just passing by? What are we really doing with our lives?

I’ve asked myself this a couple of times. I question my purpose repeatedly, hoping that it is effective to someone, hoping that if I were to die today I will have touched a life of another, that I will have made a difference, that I will be memorable, and that I will have lived a life worth mentioning.

In the midst of the bustling and often chaotic tapestry of life, we tend to forget the fragility that underlies our existence. We become engrossed in our daily routines, our ambitions, and our worries, seldom pausing to consider that all it takes for life to cease is the silent cessation of a heartbeat. The brevity of life is an undeniable truth that has been contemplated by philosophers, poets, and thinkers throughout the ages. Yet, it is a truth that remains both haunting and inspirational, forcing us to confront the profound question: What are we truly doing with our lives?

One day we are here, with dreams to chase, relationships to cultivate, and aspirations to fulfill. The next day, we are gone, leaving behind memories and echoes of our existence. The starkness of this reality is both a reminder and a call to action. It beckons us to evaluate our priorities, to assess the impact we are leaving on the world, and to question the significance of our presence.

In the midst of life's frenetic pace, it's easy to overlook the depth of our influence. We are not mere spectators on the sidelines of existence; we are active participants in a grand symphony of moments, emotions, and experiences. The question of whether we care to make a difference becomes not just a philosophical inquiry but a personal challenge. Do we dare to elevate our existence beyond the mundane and ordinary? Do we dare to touch the lives of others, to create ripples of change that extend far beyond our individual selves?

The allure of making our presence known is a reflection of our innate desire for connection and significance. We yearn to be more than fleeting shadows; we long to carve our names into the annals of time. This aspiration, however, is complex. It stems from a deep human need to leave a mark, to be remembered, and to defy the passage of time. Yet, it is also an opportunity to harness our potential for good—to foster compassion, kindness, and empathy that can resonate through generations.

But are we merely passing by in this intricate dance of existence? This question, poignant and introspective, guides us to introspection. It encourages us to delve into the core of our actions, motivations, and choices. To be "just passing by" is to live without intention, without purpose, and without embracing the opportunity to touch lives and leave a positive imprint.

The echo of these thoughts resounds in my contemplations of my own purpose. Repeatedly questioning one's purpose is a journey toward self-discovery, an endeavor to align one's actions with values and passions. It is a testament to the human spirit's innate curiosity, the relentless pursuit of significance, and the aspiration to contribute meaningfully to the world.

The hope of leaving an effective mark on someone else's life, of inducing positive change, becomes a beacon guiding the choices we make. In the face of life's fragility, this hope blossoms into a profound urgency—a call to ensure that our existence is not in vain. It is a hope that aspires to touch lives, to inspire others, and to become an integral part of the tapestry of human experience.

The desire to be memorable, to make a difference, and to live a life worth mentioning encapsulates the multifaceted essence of the human condition. It encapsulates the desire to be more than a mere statistic, more than a fleeting moment in the grand scheme of time. This desire has the potential to drive us toward remarkable feats, both small and large, that can transform not only our lives but the lives of those around us.

Yet, it's crucial to acknowledge that the pursuit of a meaningful life is not a linear journey. It is an exploration filled with moments of doubt, introspection, and even confusion. In this journey, it's valuable to seek guidance from mentors, friends, or professionals who can offer insights and perspectives. The act of contemplating life's purpose is not a solitary endeavor but a collective one, where shared experiences and wisdom can illuminate the path.

In conclusion, life's fragility serves as a poignant reminder that each heartbeat is a gift, a chance to make a lasting impact. The questions posed—about making a difference, leaving a mark, and embracing our fleeting existence—are invitations to reflect, to act, and to evolve. They urge us to be architects of our own legacies, crafting stories that transcend time. As we grapple with these questions, we become the weavers of the intricate tapestry of existence, ensuring that each thread is woven with purpose, compassion, and a profound appreciation for the fragile beauty of life.

LIFE PASSES BY!

Get illustration: Download

Life passes by. It doesn’t care that you’re happy or miserable or that you did or didn’t do the things you were meant to, or that you forgot to do something. It keeps going. The longer you linger on issues that faze you or things you wish you did differently, the more it passes by. Stuck in a limbo, your thoughts consume you. Even though, your thoughts are not kind, poison, they torment you with 'what ifs', possibilities of things you’d wish you’d change, overwhelmed by all of it… life keeps moving.

So what’s the best thing to do?

Move on. It hurts, it’s cruel, it’s not calculated, but you move on because if you don’t, you will be lost forever in your mind, all these while life passes you by.  

12 THINGS I AM GRATEFUL FOR THIS YEAR

At the beginning of the year I decided to get a gratitude jar and fill it with thank you notes. I scribbled down the things I was mostly grateful for at the end of every week. I started off so well but as the year went by it got harder for me to keep up, so I started dropping in notes whenever I remembered or whenever something in my mind popped up and I was thankful for it; it’s no wonder the jar didn’t overflow as I imagined it would. I plan to open the jar on the last day of the year and I figured I should at least share twelve things I am grateful for this year.  Twelve because there are twelve months in the year; though, keep in mind that the things I’ve listed, didn’t necessarily happen in that order.

     1.  Juza Africa

I am glad to have been part of the founding team of Juza Africa that installs digital libraries around primary schools. The organization focuses on improving literacy and making the educative process more efficient and effective for schools in Africa using technology inspired solutions. My work with the team has been to capture the process, create content and run the social media pages. The most joy I’ve got out of the work is being able to do something for the community and share the love and joy with the children as they receive the digital libraries. If you’re looking for a way to give back to the society, please consider the organization, you can donate on the website.

     2. Getting my books on Amazon

As a creative, I get excited knowing that I’ve put out something into the world. I officially have three books published under my name. Its two screenplays and a children’s illustration book that you can buy from Amazon. That officially makes me a published author and I am definitely thankful for that.  Check out the link to all my 3 books here: Click to buy my books on Amazon

 Alongside publishing my own books, I also helped my cousin publish her own book, ‘Beyond theCrevices.’ If you’re looking to publish your own book, please lets discuss, I’m happy to get your book published as well. At a fee of course!

     3. Stock photography

I have a lot of pictures sitting in my computer because of the love I have for photography. I decided to share this on stock sites and it has been such a rewarding experience. If you are considering doing this for some extra bucks please do. My only regret is that I hadn’t started sooner. My most earning website has been Dreamstime, which I am an exclusive partner. If you plan to join please use my affiliate link. I am also on Shutterstock, but it hasn’t got me much, I know for sure everyone’s experience is different, so if you’re still interested in joining Shutterstock you can use my referral link. The good thing with stock photography is that you can make up to $1000 a year just having your photos on the website. Some people have been luckier and have made that in a month.  So please try it out if you’re a photographer and find out how your work does.

4. Getting a website

It took a while but with the help of a great website developer I created my own website www.spinklycreations.com based off the idea of stock photos. I realized there are a lot of people looking for creative content, so figured it’s a great way to keep mine all together in one place. Please check out the website and support my work by registering and engage on the site. You can also buy some of my digital content, I would really appreciate it.

     5.  Getting back on YouTube

I’m able to showcase the process of my work and to increase my outreach through YouTube.  I created the channel for my illustrations one year ago, though I stopped for some time. I picked it up again this year and I’ve decided to be consistent with it. Hopefully, I can build an audience. Please click on the link and subscribe to my channel if you are a fan of my work. It will encourage me to keep going: Subscribe

     6. Creating a Spinkly Store

The great thing with Teespring, which is the website I’m using for my designs, is that it allows me to print on demand and the site also takes care of the shipping. This way I am able to sell my paintings as well as use my wallpapers and patterns to create merchandise such as tshirts, pillows, hoodies, cases and the likes. Check out my store.

      7. Traveling for my birthday

On my birthday this year I took a trip to Diani. It’s not to another country as I had originally hoped for but it was very fulfilling all the same. I got to travel with my big sister who was great company. The trip was a much needed vacation. I’ve put in so much work this year, and whether I get appreciated for it or not, I figured it’s the least I could do for myself, reward my efforts.

I also realized that I am so blessed to have been to a total of 19 countries in my life (Kenya, Tanzania, Ethiopia, Egypt, Senegal, Guinea Bissau, UK, Greece, Italy, Netherlands, Jordan, Lebanon, Syria, Israel, UAE, Turkey, USA, Pakistan and India) and I really plan to make that 20 by next year. I like the idea of my 20^th country being in 2020.

8. Books I’ve read 

I am not much of a reader, but I’m glad that I managed to read four books this year. This is such an improvement from last year because I only read one book (It was even a book I was editing, so I’m not sure if that even counts). Hopefully next year I can finish six books in total as I had hoped would be the case this year. Below is a list of the titles I read this year:

• The self-esteem workbook
• Becoming Michelle Obama
• Act like a lady, think like a man.
• You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make em chacha: Why Some People Stay in Abuse and Some Don't.

      9. Appreciating your circle

This year I learned that being close to your family members is a blessing. Generally when people don’t have great relationships with people they live with or work with, it can be toxic. I’m now wary of the people I allow in my life, and I’m especially grateful for the people that love me for being me, and wouldn’t change a thing. The older you get, the harder it becomes to keep friendships. It’s no wonder the older you get the smaller the circle.

      10. Health

Slowly by slowly I am starting to have problems with my health. I won’t mention them particularly, but a lot of my conditions have got worse with age. Nowadays I consider health as not having to go through any excruciating pain, because when pain or illness comes, it’s a reminder that health is so important and we shouldn’t take it for granted. I hope as I step into 2020 I can actually stick to a healthy diet and follow through with exercising, I don’t like it but it’s necessary.

11. Building a relationship with God

I believe in God and my strength comes from God. I feel like the past few years my relationship with God hasn’t been at its best, so lately I have been working on that and so far so good. Prayer works, you just have to be patient, and know that God’s time is always best. I’ve learned that being at peace with my God results to being at peace with myself.

      12. Blogging

I know, I can’t really brag about this blog part, or say I am grateful for how much I have written. Though, I am glad I have this platform to express myself in written form. I have really missed it, and the fact that I am able to come back whenever I feel like, without any pressure, at no cost, I appreciate that. I don’t know if there’s anybody who reads what I write, but I still choose to write because I realize I love writing. I’m no Shakespeare or English guru but I’m a creative writer. I love expressing myself through writing because it gives my thoughts value. Thanks if you actually did read up to the end because I doubt people still read blogs, but you do and that’s rare! Have a prosperous and successful 2020! I hope to write more next year!

Comment below the books you’ve read this year, and let me know what you were mostly grateful for this year. 

5 Different type of artists

Watch how I create the above image here

Artists, a person who expresses human creativity and imagination in a visual form to be appreciated primarily for its beauty or emotional power. 

There are so many types of artist involved in the different constituents of the arts which comprise of literature, performing arts and the visual arts. It’s safe to say we all don’t fit into the same category when it comes to creating and presenting our work but here’s a few things I can poke at that outline the different type of artist.  

1.    Careless artist

The careless artists are more of the risk takers and don’t usually take the time to plan their work. These type of artists are not so much caught up in doing their work until the last minute. There work is usually carelessly done, assuming it is done in a hurry; hence, not so much effort is put into it. Simplicity is key for them as most of their work involves a few splashes here and there but the result is marvelous! These are the kind of people who don’t care much for deadlines. No matter what they do, their work is always good and so they don’t worry too much about details. Five minutes or five days doesn’t make much of a difference for them as they are gifted with the talent and they solely depend on it. Unfortunately most of these artist tend to be lazy because creativity comes easy for them. In terms of delivery, they still complete their work and satisfying the audience or clients’ needs. I would say these kind of artists need a lot of push in order to take their talent or work seriously since despite everything they are still able to deliver, which means they most likely don’t get to live to their full potential.

2.    The planner artist

The planner artist is the opposite of the careless artist. The planners are the organized type of artist and love to plan their work ahead of time. They are not so much of the risk takers as they would probably need their work to be more precise. I imagine the planner artist wouldn’t consider a pen as a tool for drawing as they are perfectionists and are more specific to details. They would rather do sketches and prefer pencils that allow them to erase and draw over to better their work to perfection.  The planner artist definitely has the talent, they are aware of the talent but still plan out their work to ensure that everything goes according to plan as it is preempted. A lot of the times their work is neat and tidy as they colour within the lines. I imagine that these are the kind of artists that make better designers and freelancers as they are able to plan out proposals to show their clients the kind of work they will create before they actually create it. At the same time they are able to save their work in stages, so that they can go back and correct their work if required.

3.    The lucky artist

The lucky artist are the type of artists who create by accident. You ask them what they are going to create, they have no idea but when they finally create it’s a success. Now these are the type of artist that are considered lucky as they know they have the talent and they rely on the talent to come through for them when needed. I consider them a bit closer in relation to the careless artist as they have the unplanned quality, seeing that they don’t know beforehand what they will create; they discover it through the process of practice. Their work is based on results and outcome, so they require patients and faith because their work speaks for itself, you wouldn’t believe it wasn’t planned for. These type of artists need to build trustworthy relations with their clients who have seen their work and believe in it. In some cases they also fit in with the planned artist as they require a lot of time in order to create. It takes them a lot of trials to do the work as you will notice their work takes a different direction from the original thought process (if they managed to think it out beforehand). They are also the type of artist that because of luck, one of their pieces will sell for millions because their creations take on a life of its own, as their creation is based off from the creation process. Doesn’t matter how long it takes them but eventually with the luck they’ve got, once `discovered’ their journeys are more entertaining as they make for better stories. All in all I would say the lucky artist’s work is deemed unpredictable so they would fit better into the fine arts.

4.    Clueless artist

The clueless artist is the type of artist that doesn’t even realize they are talented. You give them a compliment and they are as surprised as you are that their work is good. The admiring of their work usually comes as a surprise as they are unaware of their talent and capabilities. The clueless artists are probably the one timers that decide to create and it’s unbelievably good, the type of people who you’ll invite to attend a painting class and they’ll perform even better than you the artists who has been doing it for a while. You end up with a ‘student performing better than the teacher’ situation, though it’s not anything they take seriously. A lot of them go without exploring their talent because they couldn’t be bothered by it. That’s they kind of people you hear singing randomly, you’ll be surprised they can sing, you complement them, they are thankful but that’s all it will ever be since their carrier paths and choices have nothing to do with their talent. In some cases the clueless artist is aware of their talent but it’s as good as irrelevant as they do nothing with it as they wouldn’t even know how to go about it.    

5.    Wannabe artist

The wannabe artist are those who don’t have the talent but they admire artist, they love artists, they study artist until they become artists. The funny thing is they are usually the loudest of all artists. They could list the top artists or name all those who are good at what they wish they could do. Majority leave it at that as they attempt to be what they admire but they don’t quite achieve being the artist they sort. If they do they are loud with the efforts of acquiring the talent, so much that they are recognized for it, even if sometimes they are not so good at it. All we can do is admire their efforts. The good thing with art is ‘beauty is in the eye of the beholder’ and chances are that there is always someone that relates to their work. Take for instance singing, nowadays you don’t have to have a voice to sing. Most wannabes spend a lot of money or time making themselves better until they do become better. You find that they are recognized even more than the real artists with the born talent, they are the so called made artists. The wannabe artists are those who suck at it and you wouldn’t convince them otherwise, I mean why should we? Besides, at the end of the day we’re all just artist trying to make a living out of our talents or what we do best. Kudos to all those artists who succeed and are able to make a living out of it. I would say the wannabe artists make better teachers and managers of artists as they master well what makes an artist and are able to pass on the talent or shape up artists to be better.

Please do let me know what type of artist you are in the comments…