Welcome to Gaia! ::

I believe that I’ve finally realised something about myself.

All my life, I have been hesitant – no, terrified – to share my writing with others. Though I’ve been writing a plethora of poems and stories for as long as I can remember, most of them stay hidden in long-forgotten notebooks or scarcely-opened computer files. On the rare occasion that I do allow my work to be seen by human eyes, it’s normally well received. My essays earned me good marks in school, and I usually walked away with positive recognition in the few creative writing competitions that I entered.

So why is it that I can’t shake my terror of allowing others to read what I’ve written?

I believe it’s because of how I view Art in general. Art, to me, is far more than a hobby, or a way to pass the time. For me, Art is a way to express the deepest, most private parts of the human soul. By sharing my art with those around me, I feel as if I’m letting them see pieces of me that were previously only known to God and myself.

I feel the same about my music, and indeed, I believe it is my passion for music that has instilled in me this fear of publicising my writing. When my playing is criticised, I take it deeply personally. Too personally, I’ve been told. But the fact is, nothing is more personal than attacking someone’s Art. For an artist of any kind, their work is more than a creation or a performance. It’s an expression of who they are as a human being on the very deepest level. To badmouth that is to tear their very soul to shreds and scatter it to the wind. And yet, my love for music keeps me putting the most vulnerable part of me on the line every day, because I want to share this Beauty that I’ve discovered with everyone, and I have the desire to create more Beauty, and to create it more perfectly. So I attend lessons, I participate in masterclasses, I perform to audiences, all in the hopes that this Art will touch someone else in the same way it has touched me, and so that I may produce Beauty as well as I can. I wish to represent a composer’s work as purely as possible. I do everything in my power to avoid tarnishing such absolute perfection with my own human imperfections, which is why I repeatedly bare my soul and allow someone else to grind it beneath their heel. It’s masochism in the name of achieving artistic purity.

I don’t enjoy being that vulnerable. I do not wish to open yet another window into the very essence of “me” so that more people can spit through it, or even so that more people can see it. In some ways, I feel almost as if it’s an invasion of privacy to allow people to see that part of me. Like I’m divulging secrets that they have no right to know. And thus, I hide my paintings in a closet once they’re finished, and keep my writing safe from prying eyes. Ridiculous, I realise, but it’s how I feel about the topic all the same. Art, regardless of the medium, is one of the most personal things a person can do.




So, though I realise this little mini-essay is rather melodramatic and silly, how do the rest of you feel about art? What is it to you? Am I just completely bonkers, or what I say, on some level, understandable? Have you ever had trepidation about sharing something you've created, or do you feel that sharing and getting feedback, whether positive or negative, is all part of the artistic process?

Yes, I very much agree with you.

One has to find the middle ground between complete privacy with their work, and outright carelessness.

And yes, keeping your art to yourself is, in may ways, selfish. However (at least for me), it's selfishness out of fear rather than malice. It's a self-defense mechanism. I've been hurt a lot, sometimes by myself, sometimes by others, but that hurt has normally been centred around who I am, and various aspects that make up "me." If people lash out at me for who I am on the surface, why should I feel compelled to show a much deeper, more personal side of myself for them to trample as well?

On the other hand, it's very true that Art, by its very nature, is meant to be exposed to the public. How can it truly be recognised as Art if none but the artist see it? We need the opinions of others in order to improve our craft, and we cannot be so arrogant that we are unable to listen to the feedback of others who are exposed to our work. And yes, the artist is always his (or her) worst critic.

Another odd thing about me - I do not accept compliments well at all. On the one hand, it's very difficult for me to handle criticism, and on the other hand, I can't seem to accept compliments graciously. I've gotten better at just smiling and saying "thank you" over the years, but I still have to bite back protests every time someone says something nice about my work.

I remember my first year at my conservatory quite possibly being the worst year of my life. First of all, I was just in an insecure place emotionally because of a lot of other stuff in my life at that time, but I felt that I'd always have my playing to hold onto and be a little bit arrogant about.

And then I actually started my lessons with my teacher there. He was always very kind, but it didn't really matter. Anything negative he said always tore me apart. I had lessons with him three days a week, and every day after one of my lessons, I'd go home and cry for a good hour or so.

It was the first time that it really hit me that those who study any kind of Art really have to be masochists to some degree. To quote a friend of mine, "Hit me harder, Professor! I like it!"

Please don't say things like that.
My imagination is a little active.
I have only just been to Confession yesterday.
Don't make me trek into town at 8am again.
(I'm not that lazy - I deliever papers first, see.)

Fortunatly, this time it turned into a cartoon with a big ruler and pop-out eyes.
But, yeah.
I'm sick.
rolleyes

rofl

But don't you realise? It's supossed to send your mind to the gutter.

>snif!<
I'm not your friend.
I'm not your friend tomorrow!
(Because that's what five-year-olds say.)
The white returns.
rolleyes

Aww, come on.

Post! Do it!

Of course it's good enough.

And this isn't personal, because it's not Art. wink It's a rant, and my rants are far from artistic.


And...will you be my friend the day after tomorrow? Please? cry