Super Speed
Over think it. Over and over. Round and round I go. I’m dizzy. Too much at once. My pace is very fast. I’ve got a lot of things going, a ton of information in my mind, clouding my judgement. And I love it, almost too much. I wish for a break in my system and then purposely convince myself I don’t need one. I never want to stop coming up with new ideas and projects. It’s like my activities are my inside friends. Can’t live with them, can’t live without them.
Every year I make it a mission to enter some of my work into competitions. This time around I managed to find a half dozen of them. I’ve got several pieces of art up for exhibitions. It makes me so nervous and sick to my stomach. The idea of rejection mixed with the possibility of actually being the chosen one. I’ve been turned down so many times I just assume that’s the way it will always turn out. A few years ago, I was the winner of a recycle fashion show, and was so surprised I had to be pushed on stage. I had tuned out the announcer and was waiting until I could go home and cry. When my name was called my sister literally shook me until I understood what was happening. I never expect to win, I just like to compete. I like the challenge. But to win, that’s awesome!
It’s all up in the air right now. Maybe I will get lucky? Maybe someone will like what I’ve done. I’ve been told I can’t make it unless I get out there and try. As of now, I’ve only had one painting in a real art gallery, and two pieces on display at a local library. Both felt the same to me, knowing my art was hanging on a wall other than my own. I guess I’m on this mental treadmill because I discovered the need for an artist page. An artist portfolio to back up my work and brief bio. The second I realized I had nothing to write down, I grabbed the dog leash and went for a walk. I have no awards and no featured exhibitions. I have no formal education or publicized recognition. I basically fall into the category of making art. And then I hang it up at home. Something tells me my portfolio is going to be a picture book. A visual experience.
I am completely self-taught. The only show I was in was over twenty years ago. And the only time I won in any competition, my sister’s name was printed on the award. Somewhere along the way they got the name of the model mixed up with the name of the designer. Just my luck. At least we have the same last name? I never wanted any awards or needed to see my art in a professional setting. I always kept it low key, crawling out of the closet every time I felt like I had something good enough to fully expose my creativity.
If what I need to create here was my reject page, it would be easy. I have an entire collection of art that was ignored and costumes without a stage. I have an entire studio full of my hard work. My experience. My portfolio is stored in bins and up for sale. It’s all waiting around for a moment to shine.
Last year I made a dress out of toilet paper, tape and glue. I was the designer, the model, the photographer. And then a reject. Now that dress is my most viewed product up for sale. My mom, my sister and I made a costume for an international fashion competition. I made the dress, my mom learned how to make a whip, and my sister constructed these amazing wings out of chicken wire. That’s hanging in the front closet. I look at the past all over my studio, all the time. I reminisce every time I see both, then get caught up wondering where I went wrong.
Although I’m forever stuck on fast forward, I will find a way to patiently wait for some acceptance. In the meantime, the biggest complication will be how in the heck I’m going to figure out a blank portfolio presentation. I truly hope this year will be different!
