Social Media and Art related things

Talent

I’m sure everyone’s done it at some point. I have. And I regret it. 

Calling someone “Talented”.

Oh wow you’re so good at the piano, you’re so talented.
Did you draw this? I wish I was as talented as you. 

As if drawing and playing the piano is a skill assigned to a foetus still in the womb. As if the moment they are born, they whip out their piano and start smashing symphonies. Of course, these “you’re so talented” most likely don’t come from a place of ill intent and I understand “assume the best intentions” and “don’t think so negatively”. However, it’s difficult to ignore these claims of “being talented” when it comes from a place of ignorance. 

She doesn’t play piano better than you because she’s talented.
It’s because she practices 5 hours a day, everyday. By herself.

He isn’t good at dancing because he’s talented.
It’s because he watched videos online and taught himself through concentration and hard work.

I didn’t get better at drawing because I’m talented.
It’s because I read books, research, and practice. For hours. For years. 

Why is it so difficult to understand for some?
Is it because it’s easier to attribute artistic skills to some innate ability rather than admit that art also requires skill, concentration and hard work?.

Calling someone “Talented”. It comes from admiration, awe, maybe jealousy. But hearing it, has never, ever made me feel good.

Just a ramble:
I wanted to draw a scene with a full-body character. Some kind of fantastical land of dragons, a place to run away to in my dreams. 
I often ask myself “why don’t I draw something dull?” and honestly, I think it’s because I feel the need to draw a place where I would want to be. 

Though my school life is far from “bad”, it can be at times, extremely demotivating. Almost all schools reward academic success. A good math test, a physics test etc. But a good drawing is almost meaningless. It’s almost as if the world is shouting at me “nobody respects artists as much as mathematicians or scientists”. That moment when you realise that something you love so dearly is being ignored or trampled on by others, hurt. It hurts.