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Waiting for the train this morning pouting like a character from John Water's Cry Baby |
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The glorious sky today from my office window - Spring in the air |
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My desk on Thursday morning |
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'I got plenty of blues and sorta bad news', 2014, acrylic and collage on found image. |
This week I have learnt something very important. I have learnt how and when to say no. Literally up until right now, I have said yes to pretty much every business opportunity that has come my way. Someone once said to me "You'll wake up when you're thirty and wonder what happened" - implying that I am a bit of a 'one hit wonder' and don't have what it takes to back it up and turn my practice into a lifelong vocation. Comments and insecurities such as these have led me to have a smear of impostor syndrome - putting all my successes down to luck and coincidence. In this frame of mind, I would grasp onto most decent opportunities that came my way - no matter what, because I thought it could potentially be my last chance. I would half kill myself trying to please everyone with my yeses, trying to do as much as I could to prove myself to myself and to those who had thoughts similar to the: "You'll wake up when you're thirty and wonder what happened" person.
After probably a good 3 years of working in this way, I finally have built up the confidence to say "no" when something doesn't feel right, when a deadline is too tight, when - if I said yes - I'd be working day and night half killing myself to get it done. I no longer have to work in this way. I can curate my career more so than I thought. It's not just a random chain of events and opportunities that I must adhere to. This has been revolutionary for me.
I want my art practice obviously to have integrity, and I also want it to have longevity. I need to start making conscious decisions that will make that possible. I am still learning. Saying no is a thousand times harder than saying yes. Saying yes to everything is associated with spinelessness. I need to be tougher and more fierce in realizing my vision. I need to have a plan, a trajectory for achieving what I want. One hit wonders don't think this way. In seven years, on the morning of my 30th birthday, I am determined to wake up, call that person and tell them how successful and bad ass I am.