Source: ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE
I’ve become one of ‘those people’–people who feel sad about their art. I hat them.
I was fussing and fuming in my head this morning, about
how nobody wants my artwork anymore stupid stuff, when I realized I’d become one of “those people”.
The whiney, self-absorbed, time- and energy-consuming, nobody-can-help-me, hugely annoying artist, drowning in a sea of self-pity and ennui. The people who start off any conversation, professional or personal, by heaving a soul-weary sigh and declaring…
“I feel sad about my art.”
I’ve been in several artist support groups in my art career. I’ve learned to duck and run for cover when someone takes this stance more than once. Especially if, when you offer feedback or advice, they argue with everything you say.
I hate it because I’ve always believed this is a cheat, a cop-0ut. A way of letting yourself off the hook, to shirk responsibility for getting your art out into the world.
And now I’m one of them. Let me take a moment to search for a cartoon on the internet to illustrate my point. Got it!
Over the years, as I
learned to supress my urge to kick these people became a better listener, I realized there are really two kinds of whiners:
There are those who unconsciously use the mud they’re stuck in to excuse their own inaction. Sadly (but true), nothing will work, nothing will help, no advice or suggestions will get through, until they’re ready to change it up. They may need a new creative outlet, a new way of thinking, sometimes even a new partner/lifestyle/career. But that’s their journey to make, not ours.
Others truly are aching to get out of the mud. We just haven’t been taught or shown how to do that.
And most of us, their friends, their supporters, haven’t learned how to really help.
We haven’t learned how to listen–deeply, patiently, fully.
That’s what a great support group does. No advice. No cheering up.
Instead, we listen. And ask questions. And more questions. We poke at that person, gently, until we understand better what it is they’re really asking, and what they really need.
And usually, what they really need? They either need better information, a little moral support, and/or affirmation for their creative self.
Sometimes our sense of failure is based on misconceptions. Sometimes we’ve been knocked down by a particularly rough spot in our life. Sometimes, we’ve just never actually thought about what it is we really, really, really want, in our life or for our art.
And that’s okay. In a world awash in information, it can be hard to sort out the bits that are right for us. In a world that’s always full of uncertainty, even danger, and death, it can be hard to create a space for peace and wonder and hope. In a world that measures success by our income, our celebrity, our website hits, our Facebook likes, it can be hard to know what really makes us feel whole.
I’ve been whining a lot lately. And fortunately, along with the silly (though thoughtfully offered) advice, there have been some wise listeners. too. They pointed out some thing that could
save me from working at McDonald’s help me earn some kind of income in 2016, and would still be a way of teaching/sharing/giving back to my community.
So to all the sad-about-my-art people out there, I apologize. My friend Nicci once said, “When you point your finger at someone, three more are pointing back at you.”
I hope, if you really do want to not be sad anymore, you find the peeps who will help you do that. I hope you find people who care, who listen, who shine a light in front of you, so you can simply see your next step.
Til then, another Jessica Hagy illustration, to give you a better way to look at the mud.