As an artist you are constantly feeling broken. You feel torn between the world that everyone else lives in, and the one where you create. That may sound condescending, but it isn't meant to be. It's the opposite actually. I have met some truly great artists that create beautiful work, and yet they doubt themselves daily. You feel inadequate, over-exposed, too emotionally invested in pretty much everything. So to defend yourself against the world, at least in my case, you end up outwardly portraying the exact opposite. You come off as aloof, withdrawn, and uncaring. Its a required defence mechanism, or maybe that's just me again.
I was asked to write a bio for an event that I did on Friday. In the bio I described myself as the faceless businessman. I described myself as a person whom you may believe had skeletons in his closet, or secrets hidden under the floorboards. The more I thought about it I realized that it hits on a truth. When I blog about being upset, unhappy, angry, etc. I end up having to defend myself. I end up having people constantly asking me if I'm OK. And it's not that I don't appreciate having friends or a spouse that cares enough to ask the question, but as an artist sometimes you just want to be, to expose words for their raw meaning, to let out some of the demons from underneath the floorboards. Those demons will never disappear. The art I create will never be good enough for myself. So from time to time the thoughts will escape, and once words are spoken they cannot be returned. I will once again be over-exposed. Sometimes you want to throw the words out there for people to marvel at without judgement, without concern for your welfare. When you write a novel you don't want people to look at you like what you've written is about you. You are supposed to be allowed to create, and for those who don't know you they will allow you that expression, but those people that do know you will look for themselves in the words, or look for glimpses of the author. It would be hard for them not to.
I don't think there is a resolution to this dilemma, just like the demons will never leave the faithful artist. We would be dull without our demons, and probably wouldn't be very good artists. I realized that I am more of a performer than a true artist. Quite frankly my art is in the music, then the words, then the paint. It is all 3 that make me who I am, and mostly I feel mediocre. I cannot change that, and it is far from false modesty. I will never be good enough for my biggest, staunchest, loudest critic - myself. Others think I'm OK, and that is the first thing my inner critic likes to point out. I do give myself credit for painting in front of 250 unknown people (mostly unknown). I guess my view on my art is it lives in the realm of performance art. That's what makes it stand out. I am calm in front of a crowd, and I lack the good sense to be concerned about the outcome. I suppose I lack good sense in just about everything I do, but I do allow myself one thing I never thought I would. I allowed me - to call myself - an artist. I can honestly say I didn't ever think that would happen. So tonight there is one fewer demon taking up space under my oak floor.
Thanks to Steve, Nicolette, Bryan, Allan, Devo, and Angie from the F2 Furnishings, Calgary Creative Arts and Culinary Foundation, Lux Marketing Solutions, and Cab City for a great night. It took me two days to wash the paint off my hands and I still don't have my voice back, but a good time was had by all.
