Letters to the Editor
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Stop wishing to be bipolar...
My husband has bipolar disorder, and it ain't the creative picnic that the LW describes. The so called "manic" phase isn't hypercreative for all people with bipolar - it is a time of heightened anxiety, paranoia and energy that goes in circles but accomplishes nothing for my husband. Now that he is on medication and stabilized, he is moving towards his creative goals for the first time in his life.
As to dealing with rejection, here are my suggestions:
1. Tack them up on the wall and throw darts at them. So what if you admire these people and thought they would like you and your work.
2. Take a vacation from rejection - A month, six months where you work and don't actively sell yourself. Since you aren't doing "art" as a living, you can afford to do this.
3. Quit your job. It obviously chafes you to work in something other than your chosen field. If you no longer have those "golden handcuffs" you'll be forced to get over rejection quicker, because if you don't, you won't eat. And if you can't hack it, maybe you'll develop a sense of gratitude for the job you can do. (I don't mean this to sound snarky, I just did the first part of this last week. I am going to school for my new profession full time.)
4. Find other creative people who are going through the same thing to commiserate with. Meet once a month for tea and sympathy and keep an email list going. Surely you have a local indie gallery or something where you can meet such people?
5. In your letter you say that you know that rejection is part of the game, but you still get down for a day or so. It's like stubbing your toe, in that if you curse and yell for a minute, it doesn't hurt as much. In trying to deny your hurt by saying "Well, everybody gets rejected, it shouldn't matter to me," you are further wounding yourself. It's also like stubbing your toe in that the rejection letter isn't also demanding that you turn in your paintbrushes or report to the clinic to have your first two fingers of your dominant hand cut off.
Good luck.
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Mid life
I wonder if LW is midlife crisis age, because this sounds like the classic midlife question, "Is this all I am? Is there nothing more? What about the youthful dreams and passions that I abandoned?" Yes, it's a little bit of a cliche, but we all face these questions at some point. Having money doesn't make it easier if we feel that our contribution so far has been trifling in the macrocosmic sense.
LW having faced this issue myself I suggest that you practice your art for passion's sake, and let the path come naturally. Don't force it, let it flow. Just quietly get started and see what happens.
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The "work" in work
Dear S,
Congratulations!
What you've discovered -- and some people never figure this out -- is what I like to call the "work" in work.
Critics talk about an artist's "body of work". There's your first hint.
In fact, even people who aren't artists talk about this stuff all the time, without identifying it for what it is:
"I love what I do, but I really hate the meetings!"
"You know, this job would be great without the politics!"
"I feel like my vision is hostage to the desires of all these other people!"
Work always contains something unpleasant that you'd rather not have to do or face. That's why they call it that. Otherwise they'd call it something else. That's what the money is for. Otherwise it would be "play" and no-one would give you a dime.
The "work" in work for me is getting up in the morning. I'm a night person. I don't mind the meetings. I enjoy the politics. I thrive teaming up with others. I'm good at confrontation, and enjoy the sharpening of purpose that rejection brings. I'm currently at the top of my career involved in a project I love. But getting to the office before 11am? Man that is really, really hard for me. It sounds silly, I know, but that's the "work" in my work.
So, again, congratulations for making this discovery! Cary has already given you lots that might be part of your solution, and I'm sure you'll figure out the rest.
Regards,
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Suck it up, dude.
Other people have already said it well, but I feel I must add my 2 cents.
I'm also a contemporary artist -- had a successful career in graphic design and squirreled away a pretty nice savings by most standards. But I was dissatisfied and took my savings and blew it all on art school, grad school and making art.
Now I am happy and broke -- I work a desk job (just because it's in the arts doesn't mean it's not totally irrelevant to my art practice). I make enough to cover my expenses. I receive grants and funding, and get into shows here and there. I work out of my apartment which is over priced. I have no savings each month, and when I run out of money, I charge projects to my credit card. I manage.
And I get rejected, too, all the time.
THIS is the life of the artist -- suck it up. Be happy that you have some success and build on it. If you pleased everyone, you'd probably be making really mediocre boring art.
And don't wish or romanticize the bi-polar thing. You're not. Most artists are regular people.
Unless they're trust fund kids.
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Response is a keeper
As a dancer/ choreographer, I used to decimate other people's work and my own with criticism, which in turn decimated my creative process, and paralyzed me as an artist.
I have turned to writing, one day hopefully be a "professional", but more to heal my creative process and perspective on creativity. Your response to S. is so dead-on and Pat Schneider's book is so great SOO GREAAT, that I have told other artists to read it, whether their goal is writing or making dances.
I'm planning on saving your response, but I do wish that I had read it 10 years ago.