oh, silly ego

“Maybe it was Marilyn, but I felt more fragile than I usually do on this movie. I felt more dependent on other people’s kindnesses. I would live off a compliment that the camera man gave me for two weeks. It would feed me. It would get me out of bed.” – Michelle Williams on channeling Marilyn Monroe

What happens when the compliments run out? When your work’s praise ends? What then? What if you never really had it in the first place? Never had enough? Wanted more?
I’ve felt this way. It’s desperate, isn’t it? Holding out for others to believe in you. Telling yourself over and over YOU have to believe, but not really injecting it far enough in your bloodstream to soak.
I find it odd that as sensitive as I am, I keep knocking on the door to a world that keeps throwing me out. Usually, I take the hint. Maybe every chunk sliced from my stature will make me small enough some day to stand out – a dwarf in the crowd. oh, silly ego.
Why do artists desire so much support? Is that just youth or until we find a right path – our own personal success?

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4 Responses to oh, silly ego

  1. it’s not youth, unfortunately. it’s who we are. some of us thrive on affirmation. hell, what am I saying? don’t all humans?

    you, dear one, are a very fine poet and writer of prose and an artist too, so go make your art and know that the world won’t always say it, but it sees how very fine your work is, so rich and honest and true.


    • rachvb says:

      I was hoping I’d grow out of it…sigh – although I think I’ve come a long way. I hate the neediness, so I’m trying to weed it out, but it’s OK that it pops up every so often. It’s a strange human emotion – but aren’t they all?
      Thank you, friend. I’m glad you are here – thanks for the boost. to work!

  2. I think when the compliments run out is when you decide whether you are a “real” artist or a hobbyist. Are you writing/drawing/painting/dancing/etc for praise or for the love of your art? Obviously the question answers itself. Rejection always stings and it always will especially with poetry because poetry itself is so liquid. Some journals will like your work others will not. It’s them not you and if it is you then you know what to do. Keep writing. It never gets easier. It’s not supposed to.

    • rachvb says:

      yes. I think I’m right on the brink of going back into what is “real for me.” Doing it for love which is why I’ve always done it. Before I ever tried to get published, I didn’t care because I felt like it was still mine and I wasn’t showing it to anyone and I’m getting back to my source. Slowly. I started caring and that just leads to a whole mess of problems. I think poetry stings, too, because I feel like I’m sending off limbs and fingers and skin – but I think it will be worse the day rejections don’t hurt.
      Thank you, dear R. I’ll get my wings yet.

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