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thistlechaserSometimes someone does something so well, it makes me want to cry. I find it a lot with drawing: Someone draws so well, all I want to do is throw my pencils away because there's no chance in hell that I will ever, ever in a thousand years, draw even close to their level of talent and skill.
It's been happening lately with writing, too.
Check this out. An under 1,000 word HP story. After I read it, I just sort of sat back from the computer, staring at the screen, my stomach making little twists. I'm having a hard time even just putting into words why/how it impresses me so much. Okay, the 'why' is easy: Because from the first couple paragraphs, it got an actual, physical reaction from me. The 'how' is so much harder. The style, the word choice, the... magic.
In a way, it would be easier if drawing and writing and RPing talents were magic. That way, you'd either have the magic inside you or not. As it stands, all I can do is sit and write, hoping to improve some but knowing I'll never reach the level of some people before I die.
It's depressing, but the depression is somewhat assuaged by the fact that at least I can read and see the wonderful writing and art. Envy seems to be sort of a fuel, too. The goals are out there, and while I may never reach them myself, improving is something.
Not everyone can be a master, but we can admire those who are.
It's been happening lately with writing, too.
Check this out. An under 1,000 word HP story. After I read it, I just sort of sat back from the computer, staring at the screen, my stomach making little twists. I'm having a hard time even just putting into words why/how it impresses me so much. Okay, the 'why' is easy: Because from the first couple paragraphs, it got an actual, physical reaction from me. The 'how' is so much harder. The style, the word choice, the... magic.
In a way, it would be easier if drawing and writing and RPing talents were magic. That way, you'd either have the magic inside you or not. As it stands, all I can do is sit and write, hoping to improve some but knowing I'll never reach the level of some people before I die.
It's depressing, but the depression is somewhat assuaged by the fact that at least I can read and see the wonderful writing and art. Envy seems to be sort of a fuel, too. The goals are out there, and while I may never reach them myself, improving is something.
Not everyone can be a master, but we can admire those who are.
