|Dawn, 10 x 13|
copyright Jacqueline Bryant Campbell
That is how I felt the first time someone described me as an artist. I wanted to contradict the person and say, "Oh, no, I'm not an artist!" but that would have been silly since I was standing in front of artwork that I had made. Did that qualify me to be an artist? Suppose the art police found out? I felt as though I was suddenly wearing someone else's clothes, almost like the first time my mother let me borrow one of her fancy dresses and I realized that clothing influences the way people react.
There I was, wearing the newly-bestowed artist robes. As the evening wore on, I was asked many times, "Are you the artist?" and was subsequently caught up in conversations about my piece. I understood then that the only person who thought my artist robes were borrowed was me.
I own these robes now.
Whose robes are you wearing?