|The heart with a mind of its own.(Be present.)||The mind with a heart of its own.(It's past.)||The dream that is your waking life.(Go there now.)|
One is the loneliest number
"All performers are plagued more or less by an apparent paradox: shame at success. This is a curious but very real phenomenon. Performers find it hard to accept applause. Some even want to abolish it."--Tor Norretranders, The User Illusion: Cutting Consciousness Down to Size
At the studio a few nights ago, I was talking to K., one of the artists who is steadily working towards the creation of art for the big summer show. We were talking about how one never feels as if one is an artist-with-a-capital-A despite the fact that one is in a gallery and in a summer show where one's work was juried before being accepted. One never quite feels as though one were creating work which others would call art-with-a-capital-A. It's all just playing in the mud, you see.
This attitude pervades one's life: one's academic career, one's personal life. What does one fear in regards to success? Does one hope to continue on at this level in perpetuity, never having to face the possibility of failure as long as one never tries to attain the capital letter goals of life (Scientist? Artist? Lover?).
Does one believe that one is part of a herd and consequently not meant to stand out? Does one think that this feeling is older than civilization, an evolutionary remnant that spoils one's achievements?
Does one only use it as an excuse?
Will one ever be free of this idea? Will one ever look around and say with confidence, "One is an Artist. One is a Scientist. One is a Lover."?