watching artists paint

doesn't it suck that the thing we love the most also gives us the most stress? unfair.

“UGHHH I DONT WANT TO DO THIS ANYMORE, IM SO TIRED!!!!”

The room echoes and there is silence for only one second, and then a response, 

“Same.”

In a room full of people who love what they do,

but hate it at the same time,

doing something that gives them purpose

but also makes them wonder if it’s all worth it,

i understand.

because even the things you love,

the people you love,

the places you love,

even those things have its moments.

nothing born from love is easy 

because when you love something

you need to choose to actively love it,

even though its ugly parts.

the paint dried on your hands,

the ache in your back,

the tiredness in your eyes that hasn’t gone away

in so long,

i can’t promise it’ll be worth it because that is a cruel thing

to promise.

i can only promise that in everything you do

there is something to be learned,

there is something at the end of the tunnel,

there is always something.