Don’t Call Me An Artist
by John B. Lowe
If you think I’m unique, or maybe even special,
don’t call me an artist, call me a stranger.
If you think I think I’m unique, or maybe even special,
don’t call me an artist, call me an arrogant fool.
If I create something interesting or beautiful,
call me a craftsman.
If I engage and enchant an audience,
call me an actor, a performer.
If I amuse you, and you enjoy what I do,
call me an entertainer.
If I only reflect what I see in front of me,
don’t call me an artist, call me a mirror.
If I set my self apart,
to observe the world from a distance,
don’t call me an artist, call me alone.
If I help you understand the world,
or your place in the world, or yourself,
call me a teacher.
If you think I can change the world,
call me an activist, call me revolutionary.
If I help you feel understood,
and cared for, and not alone,
call me friend.
If you see my flaws, and my frailties,
and my many mistakes,
but still find something in me to love,
call me family.
If I make you laugh, call me funny.
If I make you cry, call me cruel.
If I make you angry, call me out.
Call me intelligent. Call me irreverent.
Call me good. Call me kind.
Don’t call me an artist.
But, if by artist you mean human,
both simple, and complicated,
like you, and me, and all of us are,
well then, I suppose, you may call me that.
Though, I’d prefer you to call me by name.
John B. Lowe