This artist struggles with Imposter Syndrome
Trying once again to blog more often, here I am, on Birthday Month Eve. With two new nagging spirits, or maybe, just TheBrains in Horse Costume. That's right! New spirits! New things! Look a bird. No. A horse. No. Two horses! Because Hey! It's me, the ENFP queen always looking for the Next Thing. And no. I did NOT fill up my sketchbook this summer. But then, I bet you never thought I would, did you? Here they are, those horsey spirits, before they started whining. Or whinneying. Or whinny-whining. One thing I always have trouble with is believing in myself as a Real Artist. Or a real anything for that matter. 90% of my education came from books, libraries, experience – not from the university or the art school or the atelier. Even when I did study my first art, music, in the academic prison, I didn’t feel real. Too dyslexic to learn to read music I faked my way into an orchestra. Later on I dug myself into garden expert then slid myself into the job of library directo...