“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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