kethrai's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A Good Day. There is nothing quite so satisfying as the act of creation. One of the things that troubled me over the course of this summer was that in the grinding heat and misery of some of the shows that we did, I wasn’t creating much. It was understandable—the weather was literally unbearable—but I had hit a quiet and discouraged place in my art that troubled me immensely. Because creating things is such a fundamental cornerstone of my personality, it bothered me a great deal. Although it’s probably one of those things that modern psychologists deem not healthy, I derive a lot of my self-worth from what I do. I figure it’s better than deriving my self-worth from what color my hair is or what I weigh, but your mileage may vary and who am I to argue with the sons and daughters of that Viennese nutcase, Freud. At any rate, my family and my immediate New England culture place a huge emphasis on what you DO. What you MAKE. How you DEAL with the various challenges of every day and a creative life. And whether you stand up straight, and whether you tell the truth. I wonder sometimes how much suffering for your art is legitimate. Most of my suffering for my art does not take the form of mental anguish or cutting my ear off--the suffering I endure for my art is measured in sore hands and sore feet and sore back. There is no question in my mind that there is worth to the act of DOING. I don't question the "legitimacy of my art"--for one thing, people have been wearing jewelry as long as they've been telling stories, or writing poetry, and THAT, my dear NSR's, is a really fucking long time. Occasionally I question the...appeal, I suppose, of what I do. But low sales often as not means a bad economy or bad weather, not bad art on my part. Of course, when, for whatever reason, I stop creating for a while...well, that's the time to start questioning, you know? So this fall I haven't been doing too much in the way of shows. I slept in a lot. I read books. I rested. And lo and behold, the designs came back and sit in my fingers and wait for me to pick up pliers and wire and pen and do what I do. Today I was at a show, and really didn't make much money. It's okay. A couple of years ago, I would have wondered what I did wrong. Today, I knew it was the economy, and just pure bad luck. Because I spent part of the day at the show, with pliers in hand, doing what I do. And knew. There is nothing so satisfying as the act of creation. Getting paid for it is cool, too, but first, you must DO. 8:07 p.m. - 2002-12-08 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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