past personal diary entries of an artist - from 20 jul 04

Hi,

Today, I'm feeling drained. I don't know if I was running on adrenaline, or if this is an exhale after a very tense series of days, or what.

I've learned a lot in the past week. If you're looking for a happy post, you may want to skip this one.

For one thing, I've reflected on the lines in The Verbally Abusive Relationship: How to Recognize it and How to Respond. I realized that the tactics (and sometimes the exact phrases) used by critics (abusive or not) are in that book.

Especially if you work in a creative field, you've dealt with this kind of criticism. The consistent phrasing brings with it reminders of past critics, and seems to confirm your worst fears about your merits as an artist, and perhaps as a person.

Read this book. It's enlightening.

Two years ago, I stopped making art dolls when someone provided a "second opinion" that was along the lines of, "I just don't 'get' your art." It's only this week--when someone said something similar about my paintings--that I realized what had happened, and what triggered it.

Think about it: The one thing that art is supposed to do, is to communicate. It's supposed to say something, whether about a particular shade of blue, the beauty of the sunrise, the horrors of war, or the twinkle in the model's eye.

When someone suggests that they don't 'get' your art, it's like saying, "It doesn't communicate to me." And, while that may be fair criticism, it's also the worst thing that someone can say about art. It's also the underlying message in most criticism that bothers us as artists.

Tell me that you don't care for the red that I used in the sunrise, and I can explain it. But tell me something as nebulous as, "I don't get that painting," particularly when it's realistic, and I'm rendered powerless.

What don't you get? Can you not tell what the subject is... or what?

But that's not all that I've been dealing with, this past week. I was also held up for ridicule by the same woman who'd criticized my art dolls two years ago. This time, she was painting herself as a victim, and quoting parts of a couple of my journal posts, out of context.

When someone takes parts of something you said and rearranges them for his/her own agenda, it can confuse readers. Since the words and phrases are actually yours, they sound authentic. It's easy for people to think that (a) you said what's quoted, and (b) that it means whatever the critic claims. Particularly if your phrases are rearranged, with words added or taken out.

Perhaps the most disappointing part of this is that she quoted a journal entry that was filtered so that only a few friends could read it, and she made it public. It was a fairly stunning violation of privacy.

This kind of thing has been going on for years, when people selectively quote portions of private AIM messages, emails, and so on, apparently oblivious to how tasteless--and often damaging--this is.

So, feeling frustrated, I created this webpage of art & criticism quotes.

And, that leads to my dinner last night, the first time I've seen [now ex-husband] since the divorce.

The restaurant, Fogo de Chao, a tonny Brazilian steakhouse, was his choice. And, the food was good, as you'd expect when the entree is about $40/person, a la carte. But the service... Oh, dear.

Growing up, I was used to fine French restaurants with attentive staff. That's not what this was.

At Fogo, even when you use your (red one side, green the other) drink coaster to signal that you'd like not to be interrupted by waiters offering you more food... they're still at your elbow. Steadily. And refilling your water glass after each sip. Whisking away your lemonade glass when it's only 1/3 empty, for a fresh replacement. And so on. The intent may have been "attentive," but the result was more cloying and sometimes rude. Sort of "Eddie Haskell waits table."

From the "gaucho" costumes, to the contrived accents, to the massive mural/portrait of the restaurant chain founder at the center of the room, to the wardrobe choices of many patrons (short-shorts on some, jeans on others, and Houston is not a beach community), it was nouveau riche heaven... if you like that sort of thing. To me, it seemed to parody genuinely good restaurants, but really missed the mark.

But, there was something good from the evening: It gave me a chance to affirm closure with [now ex-husband]. I had an opportunity to hear him steer me away from my art, without once asking if I'm enjoying my art, or earning a living at it. Even when I told him that I'd completed six collages yesterday, it was as if I hadn't said anything at all.

Before, that'd inhibit or depress me. Last night, I mostly felt sorry for him. And, I went out of my way to make it clear that we were not a good match. It's like, I don't want to spoil his happy memories, but the steady emails and attempts to see me... I'm not interested.

So, I was relieved when he announced that this is probably his last visit to Houston, and he's going to marry the divorcee with the two children, after all. She moved in with him awhile ago; I hope she's had a chance to see what she's getting. And, perhaps they're well-suited and will bring out the best in each other. That would be nice.

Anyway, I got up this morning with the intent of tidying the studio after my collage-making blitz yesterday, and working on some paintings. But, all that I want to do is climb back into bed and sleep. I don't know if it's depression or exhaustion, or a little of both.

I've thrown in the towel on anything productive today. I hope that tomorrow will be better.

I still have several collages at eBay. If they don't sell at eBay, they'll be available (for more) at Phoenix.

Wishing you rich and creative days filled with dazzling inspiration,

What I'm reading right now, and recommend:

What I'm listening to right now: odd, low-flying helicopters outside my window
What I'm watching right now: BBC World News, at night, and then Will & Grace reruns