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 director (talk about a
profession enslaved by Academia!). So,
as a chronic sufferer of Imposter Syndrome, I wonder if my art doubts are just
what feels normal. When my friends
compliment my work – well. Over the years I’ve learned how to accept a compliment
gracefully, but - you know. They’re my friends. The only compliment that ever
thrilled me was from another, and truly fine, artist I know well enough to show
my work to and it wasn’t so much what he said as the look on his face. I am always happy when a client likes one of
my portraits – because if I please her, I feel “real”. It’s why I started with
portraits first. Validation I could count on.
But I’m feeling hungry to try New Things. And I’m riddled with self-doubt. Nearly every time I leave the studio I hate what’s on the easel, the drawing board, the art table. Nine times out of ten I am pleasantly surprised when I come back the next day, but, hoo boy, those nighttime conversations are rough.
The last time I blogged here I was still flush with the excitement of filling up my handmade sketchbook but I was getting stumped for ideas to put inside. I'm still, alas, a prisoner of the Precious Notebook Syndrome.
I have had fun with her lessons and already embraced some of her techniques and truly appreciate her sensitivity to those voices – the muse? TheBrains? Those horses? Those outside spirits that prod us and push us and ask us to be more than we thought we were – more, even than we thought we could be. That say “Just TRY”
And when I tried to paint those horses, from one of her lessons, they had a lot to say.



Well, you have a lot of people who DO believe in you as an artist! Love the last bit (the conversing horses!
ReplyDeleteGood to see your blog and hope you are doing well! And the grandies!
hugs
barb
1crazydog