PhotoDude.com

Thu. May 08, 2003

Digital Ripples

Digital Ripples – It would appear that maybe someone unintentionally struck a nerve with an e-mail, or at least inspired some self assessment. And maybe the same has been done in return, again, unintentionally. It’s all very vague, since we’re dealing with those infernal and sensitive creative types.

Over at TheWriteCourse.com (May 1 entry), we read, “When I recently heard from a stranger to whom I’d written a fan letter, he said ’you’re a published writer,’ and my reaction was, ’yeah, so?’ [...] I’m not making a living writing. If I was, maybe I’d be finding enough satisfaction in the work—and in the fact I was being read, to tell the truth—to shut up about it and just do it. The guy who said to me ’you’re a published writer’ makes a living doing his art—which isn’t writing. He writes (on the web) as a hobby, or as he put it, ’one man venting.’”

Hmmm. This person is sounding very familiar, isn’t he? But it couldn’t be me, because [1] I would have capitalized One Man Venting, and [2] I don’t make a living doing my art—- I get paid for commerce. I work in the fields of advertising photography and web design, industries where the primary goal is not to make art, it’s to make money. Art is a rare and mostly accidental part of those processes.

However, the proceeds of this commerce pays the bills, and with whatever time and jingly change there is left, I am able to exorcise some of the creative demons in my head, and some might call that “art.” For me, it is primarily a “release,” an emission of creative expression. I’d do it whether anyone eventually saw it or not (and have since I was about 7).

That’s not a universal feeling.

The catalyst for all this was a somewhat sloppy mention of something called “The Imposter Syndrome.” In short, it is an often fleeting sinking feeling creative people sometimes get that “they” are going to figure out you’re not really an artistic genius, that you’ve just been “winging it,” and you will be viewed as an Imposter. Perversely, it’s often triggered by seeing some truly inspiring piece of work … “that’s the way it’s supposed to be done, and that’s why I’m an Imposter.” It’s sometimes triggered by the pressure of a project. I would argue it exists in most creative types, even if only in small and irregular doses, and even if it is only manifested in an occasional frustrated thought that “I suck!” A few feel it not at all, and often they are the ones who need widened doors to pass their swelled head.

It’s not a badge of shame, or a sign of weakness. In some ways, it’s a coping mechanism. It’s not some Inner Truth Speaking, it’s your Inner Jockey cracking the whip of self flagellation. And you could fold under that whip and sulk, but you usually bear down on the finish line. Maybe irritably. But with determination.

However, I should really learn to speak only for myself, and not project on others, especially in such a subjective area. And I’m quite a mixed bag, myself. I am usually my own worst critic. I don’t beat myself glum, but I don’t let myself off easy, either. It’s part of the drive to get better at what you do. Now, couple that with the fact I don’t take compliments from others very well (I’m flattered when people like my work, but they often render me into a mumbling near silence or a quick subject change), and I’m quite a little basket of intermittent insecurities.

And yet, over time, I’ve come to trust my instincts and inner barometer (even if I have to rap the glass cover sharply now and then), and therefore maybe it is also easier for me to get my validation internally. And I somehow projected all this on someone who makes a very valid point in response:

“The imposter-spotter guy said perhaps I fear becoming a mature artist dependent on my own inner senses instead of others’. The problem with that is in order to make a living as an artist—and I imagine he knows this since he does just that—one must depend on others’ judgment of the work. Art being a conversation and all. I’d be happy to sit here in my corner, sir, and write my fingers to nubs for the rest of my life, joyous in the company of characters I love and hate, living in places I build from dreams and hopes, but of what use is it, if those characters are silenced when I turn off my word processor, or if it all simply falls to dust when I do? Is singing truly as beautiful if it never reaches one’s ear?”

Well, now we’ve surely enter the land of the Big Subjective: what is art, and does it require an audience to exist as art? I’ve written about that at some depth before, but here’s the short version: “My personal definition of art is far more of the peasant world. Art is a creative expression that was done solely to please the person who created it. Others may like it, love it, even want to pay money for it, but that is not the reason it was created. It has freestanding success as a piece of art if it has caused an inner smile in the creator because of the creative expression that has been captured. Even if no one else ever lays eyes on it.”

And that personal definition certainly colors my view. Obviously, your mileage may vary, despite any attempts to arc weld my philosophies onto yours.

So maybe I am some kind of odd purist with an unusual conception of “art.” Perhaps that’s why my income comes from commerce. Maybe I won’t get “the recognition I deserve” while I’m alive, or even a Van Gogh-like post mortem acclaim. But I’m not going to cut my ear off over it.

Especially when I find reinforcement in the form of quotes found amidst the ripples I caused: Martha Graham said, “There is a vitality, a life force, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and will be lost. The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is, nor how valuable it is, nor how it compares with other expressions. It is your business to keep it yours, clearly and directly, to keep the channel open.”

And this one: “Even if you have doubts about the extent of your giftedness, you will really bring your talents to life if you will embrace your drive to become, serve, create, achieve, and contribute. Self-recognition is not to fuel egotism or elitism, but to align with a more powerful, creative part of you that will let your heart, your knowledge, your talent loose on the world.”
Mary Rocamora

And as a closing tangent, maybe part of this is the blessing/curse of this thing we call the web. No matter what you create, there is a way to put it on the web for people to enjoy. You get feedback, you get validation, and maybe if you’re both good and lucky, you even make a little money. But the Five-Figure-A-Year-Reality is that the traditional marketplaces for art are the places a living can be made, not the web, and the competition is as fierce as always.

The web can become an illusive cocoon, but the art world is as cold and harsh as ever. Finding ways to leverage the web is something we will be doing for many years to come, as we try to evolve into some kind of self generating “farm league.”

Later: A related article from the Guardian, Don’t write off the net: “Has the internet killed off good writing and dusty libraries to store tomes of the great classics? Ben Hammersley says no, the internet is just the place where the next Dickens will be uncovered .”