Help! People don’t get Me(or what I do)!
This isn’t so much a submission as it is a general fear I find resurfacing by a lot of my peers in the art scene. In every field of art I have tried, and trust me when I say a million cows sit on these fields there's so many, I, too, have riddled myself dizzy with anxiety and dread that other people don’t “like'' my work. It didn’t matter if the room was bursting with applause at my curious spunk and genius– if just one person clapped slower than the others, I’d wail persecution and call for the donations of retired toasters while drawing myself a bath. But at a certain point, the crying became tiresome and my water bill was getting ridiculous, so I stopped and got out! I patted myself dry, dusted the largely imaginary weight off my shoulders, made sure to nic myself a quick break while shaving my legs, and calmly screamed at the top of my lungs, I DON’T MAKE ART FOR OTHER PEOPLE!!!!!
Art for me is like a Diary Entry
And the crazy cool thing is, neither do you! Or at least, you shouldn’t. Many of history’s greatest artists (painters, filmmakers, writers, etc.) could be considered nearly indistinguishable from their art. Think of little odd balls like Quentin Tarantino, okay stop throwing up, now think about how his movies are disorganized with rattlesnake color palettes and blend macho genres of westerns and martial arts. If that doesn’t scream “hey! I did this because I like it and not because someone said I should!” you should take a closer look at all the feet in his movies. Another filmmaker (I think visual crafts are easier to explain this concept) who does what the f*ck they want is Sophia Coppola. She was told a hundred times not to try and adapt a book she didn’t have the rights to known as The Virgin Suicides, and yet that muted pastel themed devastation of girlhood is something we’ve lauded Coppola for. True art is always the unaltered face of your heart, people will love it whether the features are ugly or pretty simply because it's real and it’s yours.
But here’s the thing, you have to love it too— or at the very least, not care what anyone else thinks. Maybe you don’t love it, maybe you actually really f*cking hate it, good! Hating something will very quickly tell you what you don’t want and inch you closer to what you do. But don’t go around moping about how nobody read it, or cared, or liked it on instagram. The more you do that, the more you are actively stopping yourself from making more art you love. Art for me is like a Diary Entry; why would it matter if someone else didn’t like my diary? It's for me, silly!
Stop showing everyone your Diary
It’s important that you actually get yourself first before worrying if others do too. But how do you do this? How do I make sense of my own diary entries? Now I don’t have all the answers… but here's a few.
Make up a language for your process, one native to you alone and that only those with a sharp mind and an open heart could learn.
For example: A Magenta Moment— I find that all of my luxurious moments of grandeur depressions and overwhelming decadence feel very purple– yet fleeting. Thus, a magenta moment, or a purple period
Make tactile, odorous, and edible understandings of your inspirations.
Everything is so visual and digital today, it's really no wonder why our retinas feel oversaturated by Pinterest mood boards and social media aesthetics. Trying a different sensation to spark the sensational is a very good practice to keep; even if it's something simple like making physical collages to light the fire rather than dimming your brightness by keeping it all on a computer screen, you know?
For Example: I’ve never done this but I remember reading how Coppola (funny that she’s coming up twice now) determined her color palettes by eating macaroons at a french bakery— which just sounds heavenly to me.
Make your work a private affair, one that you should only share if you're feeling overly generous that day.
Until you fully feel confident that another’s opinion has nothing to do with your ability to create, you are better left playing alone. Being alone doesn’t have to be scary though, poet Mary Ruefle once said something along the lines of being invisible is a woman's greatest gift but I’m sure that applies to other gender expressions as well. If you feel safe to explore because you understand the intentions and aims of your work thoroughly, you won’t seek that security in the validation of others.
Now, brave the artistic fields where those millions of cows sit because it’s time to feed your creative mind. When you rely heavily on your own opinion, it sharpens intuitively like a knife— allowing you to cut through the fat and tissue until you get to the bone of your lip-licking desire. Wield your knife steady, and feast.
Hope that helps,
Hope fell
