this is a post about fear.
just thought you should be warned about the fact that basically i am going to sit here and tell you all about me in the hopes that maybe you might find it useful and or glean a tiny bit of useful.
wherein my art becomes visible
i was one of those children that spends hours tracing, drawing, and coloring
everyone thought i was good at it but i did not see the big deal-basically i just looked at things and copied them
it worked fine all through middle school where there was more flirting than actual art happening (i remember vividly having my breast get in the way of Kenny's hand-i guess that was ok because 3 years later he became my 'boyfriend' and therefore had dibs on them-maybe he was staking a claim?)
i digress-fear has me babbling
then i got to high school art and the teach gave me a blank piece of paper! and told us to decorate it as it would become our art portfolio
i freaked and transferred to drama where i flirted with Matt who the year before witnessed the middle school boob blunder and thought drama was a good place to ask me out, were the two related? i wonder...
moral of the story was i stopped doing art and started lip syncing to janet jackson and being all around horrible at monologues.
but i escaped and ran away from my fears! go me!
fast forward to college. i am getting a teaching degree. it's awesome, safe, and i adore kids so obviously i shall be a teacher. what kind of teacher i ponder?
i am so glad you asked-why not be a kindergarten through high school art teacher?
what the hell?
yes. so years of not doing art. fear of blank pages and i go and throw myself upon the wolves. because in college the art teachers have to train with the people who are going to be ACTUAL artists.
there was no boy in the art department who grabbed my boobs. but there were naked boy bits in drawing class and really the first up close and personal exposure to bits should not be 75 year old bits--that threw me off for months
anyway artist me died a horrible critique filled death in art school
there were so many blank pages there
now i am trying to coax her into put her stuff out in the world, because some of it is really good. and some of you might want it.
you can see her drawings on the home page, and her photos in the banner and now you can buy her slips of permission on etsy.
wait did you just say you can buy her art?
shuddup shuddup shuddup
she really hopes you did not see or read that really big line up there.
fear has me wanting to take everything down, reprice everything to $5 and go home with my pride intact, no harm done and completely invisible.
thankfully i now know people who make being invisible harder. bless you dearest Havi!
people have seen my stuff!
i have no words, no context and no ability to deal with this.
luckily no one has bought anything or i'd have to deal with the drama of validation.
or maybe the slips will just sit there forever and i will never sell anything and my artist self can be safe and small and sad. did you just see that mean fear talking?
so here i am deciding: do i mope and eat too much chocolate or do i post this and confess and move along the path of claiming my fear filled artist self and see what happens? i think we have an answer assuming someone else is reading this
because nothing happens when you hide
except in hiding and allowing the artist to hide i spent years growing stronger. waiting until i could make bold leaps-on my terms-doing my art. and although things are far from perfect, and pictures are blurry, imperfection is a wondrous thing, it teaches us. and the most important thing right now was to get it out there and then fix it later.
to put it out there flaws, blurriness, and all
to talk to that part of myself who believes everything went wrong, and everything is stupid and no one will get it and no one will like it and certainly no one will pay money.
sometimes you have throw the flawed horrible thing out there, get more information and then fix it to every one's delight because if you wait-it will never leave the safety spot
yes i can see the drabness and the flaws in these slips but it doesn't matter-there is an electricity that cannot be contained-nor really described-but if you get it-you will get it and that is all that matters. there is magic-serious magic in these permission slips.
obviously someone out there was waiting for me to create this so they could find their magical item of power and permission.
and you have had to listen to a long rant about the wrongness in my brain that has given me a headache and made me tell stories about adolescent fondling. bless you for still being here-i adore you!
let me sum this whole post up in a few words
fear sucks. it says mean things and makes you want to run away, back off or hide. tell fear to fuck off and do it anyways (even if it is broken)
and go look at the permission slips but don't tell me what you think-tell someone else. i'm not quiet ready to look that fear in the eye.