The Talent Is Not Mine

I thought I would share an idea that has been very helpful in my creative journey.

For that, let me take you back to my childhood.

Like many visual artists, my path began when an adult noticed that I might have some talent for drawing. So I started practicing and trying to improve.

But I didn’t know what to do with that.
From the outside, talent seemed to mean that I was somehow special—but deep down, I wasn’t so sure. Still, it became an identity. And because that identity brought admiration, I felt I had to live up to it.

So whenever I had an idea of what to draw, I immediately started thinking about how people would react. Would it prove that I was actually talented?

But trying to predict the outcome of a drawing before even picking up the pencil is like trying to predict the weather a month ahead. You might be right—but only by chance.

As the pressure grew to make the “right” guesses, I froze.

I stopped making art.
I couldn’t face this game anymore.

A shift

Then something changed everything.

Reading the story in Matthew 25—the parable of the talents—I suddenly saw it differently.

The servants did not own the talents.
They were entrusted with them.

They were not responsible for how much they received,
nor for the quality of it.

Their only responsibility was to do the work.

A new understanding

That realization stayed with me—and slowly made me bold.

I don’t have to worry about the quality or quantity of my talent. That’s not my responsibility.

Just like I don’t control how much IQ I was given, I also don’t have to prove anything to anyone. I have what I have.

If there are complaints, they can go to my Boss.
It was His decision—and it’s His property.

The job

My responsibility is simple: to do the work.

I like to think of myself as a postman.

I’ve been given a bicycle (my talents)
to deliver the mail (the message).

I’m not responsible for the quality of the bicycle,
nor for the content of the mail.

I simply deliver it.