It is said that comparison is the thief of joy. (Or in other parts, according to other liberty-taking folks, it is the "one-eyed bearded thief of joy.") I agree with both varieties, and if left to my own devices in a group of talented do-ers, quickly take to an unhealthy self-deprecation.
The first full day of class and work brought with it a hearty portion of excitement today. After our introduction to the studios last night, I was so intoxicated with ideas and inspiration that I could hardly meet with sleep. After waking this morning, I was quickly faced with my shortcomings, my inexperience and the cold hard fact that I'm years and miles behind my classmates.
According to statistics, when kids in an average American kindergarten class are asked to raise their hands if they are artists, the majority of them do. By the fifth grade, the numbers drop. When middle school hits, even fewer remain.
Isn't it a travesty? So many of us start out with confidence that we are creators, that our efforts are valid and our art, fridge-worthy. Then as the years wear on us, we become less sure of ourselves. Because we don't pursue and art degree, display our works in galleries, have an etsy shop...we cannot possibly call ourselves artists.
I can still hear my little girl answer to the age old question.* "An artist," I'd say boldly.
But, today, I'm a statistic.
It wasn't long before my own career ambitions morphed, and I was after something a little more concrete. Here's to hoping I can channel my little voice of-old, that I can drown out the others and refuse to let anything pirate the joy I have from being in this place.
*"What do you want to be when you grow up?"
3 comments:
Remember the phrase we took hold of last fall: Artists are the ones who show up.
And there you are, right where you should be.
Abby shared that phrase last night, and I loved it. I'm so excited you're up there. Keep writing, missy. And keep letterpressing!
i love, love, love this. can't wait to meet you!!
Post a Comment