The Space Between Expression

As writer and illustrator Karasira Teta Ange Lina reflects on her impulse to write, this essay traces the subtle tension between expression and self-protection. Moving through questions of honesty, vulnerability, and creative safety, she shares her thoughts on how words, unlike images, expose the self more directly, and how holding back, out of fear of being fully seen, shapes the way she creates while still seeking sincerity.

Lately, I have been thinking a lot about writing itself.Not about stories or themes, but about what we really call writing. How I write. What makes me write. What inspires me. What it means for me to express myself through stories.

I realized something about my own process. When I sit down to write, I only think of the best parts of my life. I want to tell good things. Beautiful things. Things that feel safe. I avoid bad experiences, painful moments, and the parts of my life that hurt or left marks.

This is one of the reasons I stopped writing poetry. I could write it, but I could not post it. Poetry gives everything away. Every line reveals something. It exposes how you think, what you feel, what you have lived. It leaves evidence of who you are.

And this is the difficult truth about art.

Writing, drawing, painting, poetry, they do not just show what we see. They show who we are. They show how we think. They show how we live. And that exposure is frightening.

Because of this fear, we often choose to create from what we observe, not from what we live. We describe the world. We describe others. We describe shared experiences. But we protect ourselves.

As an artist who writes, draws, and paints, I find it easier to create from what we live collectively rather than from what I have lived personally. I already have enough information there. Enough distance. Enough safety. But this choice also limits my ideas, because I am constantly avoiding my darker side, the pain, the experiences I do not want people to know about.

Painting sits differently for me.

When I paint, I feel exposed, but not in the same way as when I write. A painting does not always belong to the artist alone. Many people can look at one painting and see different things. They can relate it to themselves. A painting does not have to tell my story. It allows others to express what they feel inside it.

Writing is different. Writing often feels like saying this is me, this is my story. That is why it feels more dangerous. Words point more directly. They name things.

Even novels, which seem safer because they are fiction, still carry something personal. A fear becomes a character’s hesitation. A wound becomes a conflict. No matter the form, the self always finds a way in.

This makes me ask questions about honesty in art.

I do not believe an artist owes honesty to the audience. Even if an artist lies, the audience might never know. But honesty makes creation easier for the artist. It brings relief. It allows expression. It allows happiness, or at least truth.

Art has to be honest, but honesty does not mean exposure. There is a difference between privacy and dishonesty. An artist can choose to keep things private and still be sincere. But when art is dishonest, people feel it. They do not connect. They do not feel anything. And connection is what allows people to love an artist’s work.

Pain, however, is not necessary for meaningful art. We often think beautiful art must come from pain, because many people use art to release what weighs on them. But pain is not unavoidable. People choose to share it. They share it to connect, to heal themselves, and sometimes to help the community or the audience feel less alone.

Being misunderstood does not scare me. People will always have something to say about art. Every viewer brings their own perspective. Being fully understood is not necessary either. You are the owner of your work. But when expression is clear, understanding naturally follows.

If no one ever read my work, I do not think I would write differently. Sometimes art is not read simply because it is not in the right hands. But when art reaches the right audience, it finds its readers.

I believe art heals the artist. And even when it reveals wounds, that revelation is already part of the healing.

Many writers have spoken about this tension. Toni Morrison, for example, wrote with deep honesty while still protecting parts of herself. She believed in truth, but not in giving everything away. Her work proves that art can be sincere without being fully autobiographical.

So I remain in this space of tension.

Trying to create without betraying myself.Trying to express without exposing everything.Trying to be honest while still protecting my inner life.

This is how I see art.This is how I understand writing.Not as something easy or safe, but as something deeply human.

All images are the author's own.