I like to create art.I like the fact that my hands can form something out of boring things.I  like that when I touch my clay on the table,I am inspired to create miniature figurines.Truth be told,I love my hands.I like how simple they look at first glance but gradually grow more complex as you bring them closer for inspection.The fingerprints, the countless lines weaving my fate.I love them,because they can create art.

Somehow,this talent is not real.My talent is,in fact,non-existent. Somehow, I am made into a talentless person after I had shown my art pieces to a few relatives.

"That is not art!So short,so small,so ugly!That is a piece of cake?Oh my god,that looks like a pile of shit.Hahaha.You are really going to sell that?Cannot sell one larh,not sellable."

That statement from one aunt alone was enough to crumble my faith in one of the only thing I know I am good at.Some people may say that it is not worth listening,it is just one person's comment,don't worry about it.But it does matter.I tell myself that I am worth it,I am good at it,but that statement worms into my brain and eats up all my positive thoughts.It stays there,growing bigger and bigger,leaving me an empty shell for heart.

I know that I have a few friends that have encouraged me and had told me that what I am doing is great,I am wonderful at it.I know that my parents support me and are paying for all my clay things,but I just can't over that comment.

Recently,whenever I look at my clay on the table, no inspiration strikes me.The statement repeatedly struck me across the face while I only had feeble replies to deny that I am talentless.I take out my clay blocks, I take out my clay tools, but I still sit there blank as a slate.I log on to Facebook,hoping that after I read the positive comments my friends had given to me I'll be able to create something,but my mind just stayed empty.

That particular statement had made me lost the joy of creating art.I find myself questioning why did I even start this hobby in the first place.I find myself asking why did I spend on this useless hobby when I have no talent for it what so ever.I find myself hating my hands.Why can't they make things more perfect?

Some people see me as a confident person,who knows what she wants to do,and a person that doesnt get affected by non-constructive comments,but I am human too.

If there is one thing I regret,is that I shouldnt have shown my art to my relatives.