The Importance of Being (Un) Seen

Mood: thoughtful

Google searches: Maldoror Diplomatic Relations (fav fanfic)

Stress: as close to none as I know.

Today, I ruminate on being seen.

As humans, we place enormous importance on it. Being seen and judged positively against the norms of society is crucially important; even more importantly, we want to connect to one another and be witnessed. Having relationships, being vulnerable with others – all that constructs a realm, beyond which emotional poverty becomes a threat. To not be seen equals loneliness, something that we try to combat at all times, and indeed, we are likely seen at almost all times.

I’ve been re-reading Michael Foley’s Age of Absurdity, which I mentioned in my library note. He argues that our ubiquitous connectedness robs us of ability to be present within ourselves. He therefore champions for nourishment of the Secret Self: alone time, spent without devices, in meditation, rumination, exercise.

So much of it rings true. Time alone isn’t time alone if Facebook is involved. The rush of being connected via social media may turn out to be premature: we’re connected to many people at once, but how many of these connections enable true vulnerability, baring of souls? And of course, we need to cultivate souls – secret selves – to bare, first.

Social media have their place. We have the power to choose how to share ourselves with others. But I firmly believe in occasional holidays from being seen. As an artist, I have a strong need to share myself with others, but to do that, I need that Secret Self, as opposed (or in addition) to a selfie. 🙂

Woman on a mission

Today, while I was at work, I suddenly thought: I need a mission statement.

I am an artist. I aspire to being a better, more successful artist. For that, I need to state my mission.

Here goes: I Will Occasionally Suck ( = be unskilled, wrong, mistaken, misguided).

I am so scared of making mistakes, that I struggle making anything at all. It’s changing though – slowly. Even this blog, the simple act of writing every day, this reminder that I Can, and I Will, if I Choose to.

As an artist, I agree to being wrong. I allow messing up. I allow all my wrong notes and confused lyrics. I allow bad diction and weak muscles. I will work on all that, but in the meantime, I allow a learning curve.

The Great Artist I have in mind to be is almost invulnerable…. but I am not. And that’s part of the fun. Being vulnerable. Persevering. Not having all the answers.

I allow uncertainty. I allow awkwardness. I allow fear. Because from therein, inspiration flourishes.

Quick note on fear

Today a thought popped into my mind, uninvited: that I will never amount to anything, because I have too much fear.

After hearing that, loud and clear in my head, I backed up and wondered: do I really think in this way?

I am a heroine of my story. All the greatest heroes are terrified, but they go on. All successful people struggle and persevere.

I must go on. Fear or not. Fear is not a choice: subverting it – is.

What Do I Want To Remember?

Exciting times! I’m doing work experience with The Nursery Theatre (my god, my intelligence is required for work! nice feeling, that) and I finally saw the rehearsed reading of Bromantics, by Rikki Beadle-Blair (it was brilliant, full on operatic storytelling with no unsung dialogue, so much fun!….). Then a bit of dinner with friends. And then… .

And then I argued with my boyfriend.

Just your run-of-the-mill argument. He’s having a bad day. I can’t fix that. He doesn’t want to be fixed. Etc., etc., et-bloody-cetera ad infinitum.

It doesn’t really matter.

We’re so dramatic. Will it matter in the long run? I suppose the argument bric-a-brac – debris – might accumulate, and it will matter, then. Right now, I’m making a choice to let it go. Because….

I really did have a brilliant, exciting day.

And that’s what I want to remember. 🙂

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