Stupid, or Visionary? (We'll find out in a few years)

I'm graduating in May. I think I've probably mentioned that. I certainly talk about it a lot -- I'm sure you've noticed, and can't wait until it happens so you can stop hearing about it.

Well, I talk about it because I can't stop thinking about it. What does it mean to transfer from the world of academics to the Real World? To be a "real person"? To live, to have time, to support yourself with the work you do?

It's a huge, giant, and pretty scary transition. I've spent 21 years in school, being schooled, etc. It's the only thing I know how to do. And now I, along with my classmates and countless others, must enter the world as it is and are somehow expected to live competently.

I'm not unique in going into the arts; however, I am one of few. In today's world, it seems like career suicide. The arts are dying, and the economy is already bad. How do I expect to make it Out There?

Well, how should I know?

I've noticed something that goes on in my head. I get a lot of e-mails about arts administration internships for the summer, most of which seem to be with reputable companies doing interesting work. I also get a lot of advice to go into teaching. And while I understand the reasoning behind both paths, and why it would probably be a Good Idea for me to pursue either or both options---

I don't.

Whyever not? Something in my chest just protests whenever I think about it. I had a dream, sometime last semester, in which I was wailing about not getting to go to a ball -- "I want to dance!" I remember waking up with that cry echoing in my ears.

No--I don't want to produce shows that I should be dancing in/choreographing, and I don't want to teach people to do what I should be doing myself.

Sometimes I think I really should consider it, just as a part-time solution. And then the screaming comes back. No, it says. Do what you want. What you love. And don't make compromises.

I'm either stupid, or a visionary.

I guess we'll find out a few years from now.

The Artist's Conundrum: Validation and Destruction

I'd like to talk about a struggle that is not necessarily exclusive to artists, but certainly particular to them. It's particularly prevalent in my life at the moment, or at least, it was this week.

Artists make art. I think we can all agree on that. Since the days of the Renaissance, art and life have become inextricably entwined, to the point that the artist is generally agreed to be expressing his soul in whatever he creates. Art is personal, and we as artists take it so.

Let me restate that: there is a prevailing feeling that, as an artist, you have to prove yourself to the world that the art you make is worthy, and by extension, that you yourself are worthy of being called an artist. It's a deeply vicious cycle.

You know the show "A Chorus Line"? It's like all of the characters in that show: cynical, desperate, wondering what they need to do to prove that they're worthy of the part. Life and the audition become one another. Life itself looks like one giant audition.

Conventional wisdom says we can't avoid that. If you're stupid enough to go into art as a career anyway, you sure as hell better be creating something worthwhile. It's a big struggle to be noticed, to get acclaim, to do something, to be something, to stand out. Right?

This past week I fell into the trap. I felt dearly as though I had to prove myself to my peers and my superiors and no one was buying it. I was looking for validation and ended up feeling decidedly shat upon. The result was a small incident that prompted a deep, burning rage - and by the way, I don't just get angry about things - and me in tears - and by the way, I don't just cry about things. It takes a lot to do both, and with one simple thing, I was at my worst.

That, my friend, is some high class self-destructive behavior.

But then, in talking to my dad, we started to discuss alternatives to this "conventional wisdom." What if we don't always go around trying to prove ourselves, and just create instead?  Is that even possible? Can we get to a place where we don't have to satisfy the demands of our ego?

It's a subject for another post, but it's the life I'm trying to live -- the state I'm trying to get to. When all I have to worry about is staying true to the creative vision and artistic integrity of whatever it is I'm creating.

I'd say that's pretty radical.