Why I Dislike Being Called "Talented"

Don't get me wrong, I know people mean "talented" as a compliment. But talented implies that you were born with it, or that you were just made that you could do this certain thing. Google defines it as, "natural aptitude or skill." For me I'm often called talented in reference to my art work.

Some examples of my art work

When someone calls me talented it's nice, but it kind of takes away from all the work I've put in to becoming an artist. I've put years of work into getting to where I am, so when someone says "You're lucky you're so talented at art," it gets me a bit annoyed.

I wasn't born with a paint brush or pencil in my hand; I didn't even think this is what I wanted to do until about four year ago.

As Bob Ross says, "Anyone can paint." Which means that you could paint well if you just tried, and put in the work.

It's like saying "I can't bake," and then never trying to bake or get better at baking. Well yeah, if you never try to get better at it than you will never get better at it. It's that simple.

All this being said, I know people mean it as a compliment, and don't mean for it to diminish my hard work. 

I hope you've enjoy some of my art pieces in this post. 

If you want to see more check me out on instagram @dreaming_incolors 

 

Ciao, 

  The Bored Blogger. 

Ansolo; A Claustrophobic Introvert's Account

Hello blog reader, long time to no see. *insert excuse*

Anyway, I went to a concert last night! I saw Ansolo, aka Ansel Elgort. Our nearby college hosted him, and it was free for anyone to come. You might think that this sounds amazing, a free concert with a celebrity! What's not to love? Well, glad you asked.

The night started off well enough. They had a guy come on and play incredibly loud music for an hour before Ansolo came. Seriously, the music was so loud.

Then after much stalling and setting up it was finally time. Ansel Elgort was finally coming! Everyone was screaming and pushing against each other. We were all shoulder to shoulder, crammed against each other. Then he was there! Everyone screamed, the music BLARED. Ten times louder than the previous DJ. And then the bass. The bass was so incredibly loud, my ears hurt. But it was fine because we were hyped up! Jumping up and down, clapping, screaming.

But slowly that euphoria died down, and you realized that you were standing with loads of people crammed all around you jumping up and down to painfully loud music.

Then the people. At first all was well, but then people would squeeze by saying "Oh, i just need to get past you to get to my friend just over there." Being a nice person, you would let them pass in front of you. But then you realized they were lying, they weren't meeting any friends. They were there to stay. Right in front of you. Blocking your view. The view that you had gotten there an hour earlier to have.

Then every time people started jumping it was painful. You started to dread the beat dropping, because it meant more jumping. At one point the person who lied their way in front of you jumps back against you. And then that same person who you let go in front of you starts grinding away on their boyfriend. Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too close to you. You start to realize how incredibly hot it is too, all the sweaty people near you, bumping you.

Finally it's all too much. My sister could see I wasn't having fun anymore, seeing as I was close to a claustrophobia induced panic attack. Our hearing took a while to get back, but we lived.

Overall it was fun. But this is a warning to all those claustrophobic sensitive hearing introverts, pick somewhere near the outskirts of the crowd. You'll still be able to hear the music just as well, and you'll be able to tell all your friends that you saw a celebrity. But in the end you'll save your sanity

Ciao,
 The Bored Blogger