When it comes down to it, we all have something to prove. . .

One of the many wonders that accompanies art is absolute feeling of satisfaction creation can stir. It is, for me as I'm sure it is for many others, a form of meditation where the world swirls down into a mark or a line or an object in the making. Everything else quiets down, often to the point where I am alone in the studio dancing with the piece I am making.

And then back in the real world, at my real job, with real people, I have to prove my worth by the value of the object. If I don't sell, get into a show, or make some tangible movement forward, I become valueless as well. A sorting, filing, secretarial robot with (here it comes again) a friendly phone voice.

I don't care to prove my worth, but I end up doing it. Spouting off quotes from my resume, reliving small moments of glory. Somehow stripping the peaceful studio moments down into a dirty, torrid affair.

It has been a slow psychological equation in the making. Then if such-and-such opportunity doesn't work out, I blame it on talking about it too much, getting my hopes up too high. The sense of failure accompanies me out of the studio and into the office.

1 comment:

Unknown said...

I deal with this everyday and while I thought it would decrease over time it has in fact gotten much, much worse. Being more in demand has evolved to having to prove myself to MORE people. It doesn't get easier. So I know the only thing to do is work on these issues in myself and separate my value as a person from my value as a "commodity." Or at least the value of the "work" itself. Tricky of course as artists where in many ways we are so closely connected to the work that the work in many ways is us.