Making Art That Scares Me

I'm making the art I always wanted to make. It's not about a particular aesthetic, technique or even a specific result. I almost don't care what it looks like. 

So what is it that makes me say that this is what I'm meant to be doing? Well, its how it makes me feel.

It feels like it exploded out of my guts, alive and vibrating. It makes me feel open and exposed to the world. I'm making the kind of art that requires me to lie down on the floor between brushstrokes because my heart is beating out of my chest. It's the kind of art that demands that I paint over a face five times until the expression is just right.

This art is bigger than I wanted. It's not what I expected. I don't know who will like it, or if anyone will, for that matter. And it doesn't matter. This is what's here. This is what I'm making right now. One brush stroke at a time.