Being Vulnerable

In a group of old individuals so look tired of being cool and rich but rather dedicate their lives to studying philosophy, life and how to prevent arthritis only after it hit you - I sat in the auditorium.
Initially intimidated. The panel consisted of neurologists, established writers and poets from all over the globe. I sat in the auditorium with sandals, red cotton shirt and a self-preserving mood.

The seminar was all about The Importance Of The Human Brain and how it interacts with creativity. A seminar of creativity?! Count me in! And I am glad I had motivated myself to attend. Altogether, the experience was overwhelming but validating. And that's the best.

1. It was not a typical seminar by old white man presenting textbook stuff, it was about conversation. I am slave for conversation.

2. For the first time in my life, I was able to honestly and vulnerably express my identity and how I am affected creatively in a room as complete strangers.

3. I got to engage in debates and the response was so cloud-like. I was floating, and it felt amazing.

4. There were a bunch of artists: a skinny white lady who looks aggressive about her identity, a long haired white man who left his brush in the Swiss and never bothered to purchase another so he neatly wrapped his hair in a bun, a seat of black poets and writers who wore dreads and images of African heroes on their bellies, a small youth of versatile artists which I would not usually communicate to. And there was me, it felt good to be me. I was in a platter of unique differences. I felt good.

I am realising that being vulnerable and valid are powerful tools of emotions. I used this platform, this seminar to indulge in it. I spoke openly about my identity and applied my experiences to the panel interacting with the listeners. I then had an old wise poet, walk up to me and say: ' you are doing something really right. You speak so passionately and you've got it figured out. '
In response I politely decline his statement, '' I don't think so, its not that easy. It's often too painful ...''
He leaves the conversation by saying, 'I know the feeling, but you've got it figured out. Just keep on even at the expense of family and friends.'

And that is when I cried a little more inside.

The general feedback from the audience and the panel was affirming, with comments like ''thank you for your contribution'' or ''you speak so passionately''. I felt like a million bucks and here is why:

I don't necessarily interact with my family, its not an unwilling attitude. It's not them its me. Its them not taking the time and capacity to understand me both in my values and artistically. I have a small group of friends who are patient enough to listen and learn from me but the difference is they had to learn about my ways overtime.

But last night, felt accepting and sincere, I was able to have conversations with individuals who were three-times my age. Who seemed to not have cared what I did for a living or what I had, but who valued skills, experiences, passions and creativity.  I value majority in my life, but those are the friends I dream about, that move me. I dream about dinner parties and I am the skinny, unemployed  young adult artist who is still valued in conversation.

I went to bed thinking, if I were vulnerable and honest at the '' Hi '' stage of any conversation, shall I attracted such individuals? Should I be vulnerable all the time? Would it be a step closer to receiving an invite to a book launch? Collaborative project? A cheese and wine party? Or am I just dreaming too hard?

But what I do know is that, last night went from me valuing myself as a photographer to claiming to introduce myself as a storyteller, as an artist.