muse, meet the artist.
A brief introduction to the writer in the midst of writing her life story. As she takes a leap of faith, she finds solace now that she has found her voice.
As a writer who suffers the burden of being a chronic perfectionist, my relationship with creating art has always been a rocky one. The purpose of creation is not without the existence of the artist experiencing numerous failures and countless drawbacks. I wasn’t fully aware of how often these feelings of inadequacy and inferiority would plague my work while I was in the throes of creation.
How I would constantly obsess over my story’s imperfect structure and improper setting before I manage to write the words across the first page. However, I was fully convinced that my first attempt had to be my best one out of them all.
enter, blue period.
It wasn’t until I found a Japanese manga during the pandemic about a young sophomore named Yatora Yaguchi, who wasn’t sure of his life purpose. Once he paints a blue scene of a Shibuya morning and notices a graduating art club member’s large canvas painting, Yatora’s worldview widens. And his passion for art is born.
Tsubasa Yamaguchi’s Blue Period is the reason why I redefined the parameters of my love for the arts differently and started to appreciate the ways in which it enriched the quality of my entire life. There wasn’t a lot of media centered on this section of humanity. You know the ones. This class of lost individuals who lack the discipline to turn their passion or talent into something expendable and are seen as lazy because they don’t dream any bigger than the world allows them to. Or as My Hero Academia would label them, quirkless.
Instead, they are forced to wander and exist, struggling to pretend how the big black hole inside of them could swallow the remaining vitality within them to live a full, colorful life. Because who I am if I don’t have a purpose?
And while I saw pieces of my journey mirrored in Yatora, there was a different character I found myself besotted with. In the twenty-seventh chapter of the manga, Yakumo Murai was introduced to my psyche. And one thing you should know about me is I’m an absolute sucker for a morally gray, black haired, fictional boy with confidence (note: this will be a common theme seen later on).
Despite his delinquent appearance and large eagle back tattoo, I was more intrigued by his life’s philosophy.
I don’t paint because I want to. I paint because I have to.
Yakumo Murai
His existence irritated Yatora. In a room full of artists, Yakumo proclaimed pridefully while this was his most powerful work, he was looking to improve the most powerful. These words stuck with me. But why?
Yakumo was overly confident in his artistic abilities and knew his peers envied the magnitude of his talent. He was the character that many readers, much like myself, would be—should be—turned off by his cocky nature. But I couldn’t stop searching for mentions of him in each chapter. I wanted more. My patience would soon be rewarded as the author shared more vital information about Yakumo’s backstory.
Instead of being content with his lifestyle, he chooses actively to deviate from familial expectations by pursuing a life of art and searching for more experience despite his ongoing success as an artist. He continues to apply to school art competitions and locks himself away in the university’s art room to paint.
His work ethic, while questionable to some, is congruent to the claim of how hard work is necessary to maintain a person’s talent. He doesn’t depend on his talent to carry him to his eventual success. Rather, he uses his personal determination to hone in his skills and techniques to paint even bigger pieces. Tsubasa defines Yakumo’s character as, “well-read. A man who is always continually updating his definition of “the strongest”.
I discovered Blue Period during a transitional point in my life. The insurmountable grief of losing my grandmother in 2017 left my world spinning off of its axis. For three long months, my body was on autopilot mode. I would go to sleep. I wake up. I walk through the day, unchanged and disconnected from the people around me. I return home. I shower. I sleep. An uninterrupted rinse and repeat cycle.
Creation requires sacrifice from the artist. It asks them to possess bravery to face the hidden monsters of their psyche and speak directly to the grief, which has made a home out of their body. I find that my art leaves me completely naked.
Participating in this voluntary sacrifice of creation resurfaces nameless emotions and moments I would much rather forget. However, Yakumo’s existence served as a reminder to me about how freeing art is supposed to be. I have started and stopped plenty of projects where I felt this overwhelming sense of inadequacy about my “natural born” talent as a self-proclaimed writer. I never thought to give every part of myself—the shame and embarrassment of being seen trying—in order to keep improving on my strengths and my weaknesses.
With the birth of thee matcha girl diaries, I wish to explore what my English professors call my writer’s voice. This voice is different from the one you use to talk in your everyday life. Over the past six years, I’ve grown exponentially in my cadence and my volume. In each assignment, I would devise a newer approach to analyzing copious amounts of literature and reaffirm my love for the arts. My best self shines the brightest in academia. It leads me to wonder… who am I outside of the labyrinth of education? The answer may find me through this publication.
As a fellow lost soul, I am determined to meet myself again in the throes of my passion. I hope that you’ll join me on this unforgettable journey of uncovering this part of myself and find that it is possible to discover your writer’s voice along the way. Next time, I’ll introduce you to the matcha recipe that gave birth to my wayward obsession for grounded green tea powder.
Until we meet again,
alissa. ✦
p.s. I wouldn’t have made this post possible if this song wasn’t playing on a continuous loop in the background. About three weeks ago, Jordan Rakei released this live rendition of Hopes and Dreams, the eighth track on his new album The Loop. The only way I can describe this song is it feels like I’m transported back to my adolescent self listening to a beautiful soloist during an early morning Sunday service. The fresh notes of BB’s pink hair lotion tickles my nose, which brings me back to the days where my mother would habitually dress me in my Sunday best before our family went to church.
I relish the sounds of violins and violas more than any sound in the entire world. With Jordan on the piano accompanied by the strings and unified harmonies of the backup singers, I closed my eyes and connected to his words in a single moment. I attached the live performance to invite you to take five minutes to close your eyes and feel this calm wave wash over you to make you new again.
A beautiful beginning and intro. Love it. So proud of you! <3
Yessir Gang the real life dawg with a blog - B.G.