[ 3 min read ]
Diary of an artist, Wednesday, January 22, 2020
Woke up 4:15 am
I said it before but I need to say it again. By the way I wonder how many times I repeated myself in my writing, not being aware that I’m doing it. When one writes each day and this routine lasted several years already there are probably several instances of this person repeating him- or herself (only the way this person will say the same thing the second or third time differs).
The hard part about being in the beginning (of your path), or even somewhere in the middle (approaching the middle), is that you look at other people’s work (usually people who have been doing the thing for at least a decade) and your self-confidence starts to wane. You start asking yourself if it all makes sense. If you have it in you. If you’re not wasting your time. Even if you like what you do. Heck, even if you love what you do. You can love what you do and still feel like a failure after, for the umpteenth time in your life, you have seen the work of someone who is considered a genius or a great talent by the majority, or who has thousands if not millions of fans, whose work had been recognized by the majority of critics, commentators and experts as something very special. Which, by the way, is very easy nowadays thanks to places like Instagram, YouTube, Facebook, etc. (seeing it).
Meanwhile the majority of critics, commentators and experts have never even seen any of your work. Heck, they probably don’t even know that you exist. Which also means that the majority (of people) doesn’t consider you a writer, or an artist. I mean you may think of yourself as an artist or writer, but who cares. Your own family probably doesn’t care, and will not care as long as the media don’t mention you (as an artist or a writer), or as long as your work hasn’t been recognized by the critics, commentators or experts, or exhibited anywhere else than your apartment or your Instagram profile or blog, or as long as your book isn’t for sale in their local bookstore (meaning you self-published it only as an e-book).
And even if you say over and over that you don’t give a damn what people think or say (about you and your work, if they consider you an artist or writer or not), from time to time you happen to care. I mean you catch yourself caring about it and you need to remind yourself not to. Which, of course, means that you cared, even if only for a very short while. Unfortunately, any huge self-doubt always starts small. Any huge self-doubt always starts because you cared for only a short while.
Books I’m currently reading:
Oscar Wilde: A Life in Letters (on iBooks)
End of a Berlin Diary By William L. Shirer (on Scribd)
Never Can Say Goodbye: Writers on Their Unshakable Love for New York (on Scribd)
YouTube videos and movies (since my last diary entry):
Joe Rogan Experience #1411 — Robert Downey Jr.
30 letni milioner z Krakowa — Wjazd na chate *Friz płakał jak oglądał*
Your Short Term Goals Are Causing Anxiety
How to Think About Marketing and Social Media in 2020 | CNN Interview
Boże Narodzenie 1992 Prezenty i życzenia
PRL 1986 Poczta bałagan Zeszytów brak. Przystanki brudne — absurdy komuny
PRL 1988 Handel i usługi czyli za komuny było lepiej
Music for this writing session: A Violent Noise by The xx (on repeat on spotify)