I am cleaning up my thoughts and stories that surround my art, process, and why I make art in the first place. How did I get here?
I feel this is some dark and murky territory and I feel deeply challenged as I wade in. This is an emotional landscape. I feel a bit lost, floating around the edges of things unable to put words to where I am in my head regarding my art. I feel like I am hovering above the meaning of it all and my feet are nowhere near touching.
This is not a bad thing, it's just uncomfortable and that is a good thing. I am challenged and I don't have any answers. So with this knowledge, I move forward.
Ideas about value and worth swirl around my head, mirroring my self-esteem. I have underpriced my work. I have undervalued my work. I have undervalued myself, my time, and my skills. At the same time, I have shied away from the true risk in my work. I have only scratched the surface because of fear. I have been lazy and played it safe. I dance on the outside of my real work in order to keep the peace, in order to fulfill a void, in order to fulfill a need. Not always but often. There are bodies and pieces of my work that go deeper. I remember them as if they were a dream, and I am always trying to get back to that secret door.
I like dirty work, torn work, imperfect work, energetic work and dark work. I always have but I don't allow myself to make this work too often. I hold back, I censor, I repeat and stay safe.