Several of the websites I visit have begun to work erratically, with YouTube even saying my version of Safari is no longer supported. So I migrated everything to Chrome and it's doing better, overall. But I hate being forced to change my ways when I don't want to.
Of course, that leads me to wondering why I don't change my ways. Like procrastination and reticence on pushing my writing. Procrastination is just a writer's curse. You don't want to face the blankness of a page awaiting your brilliance, so you do anything but that and make excuses for yourself.
As for reticence, it's uncertainty that fuels my inability to sell myself, far more than fear. I've never thought I'm good enough to be successful at my work -- be it art, photography, film, or writing. In one part of my brain, I knew I'd do fine; but the more dominate part kept screaming, You've got to be kidding me. You, a writer? When you have typos and and questionable grammar in every sentence, and have never done well at expressing your thoughts?
It's pretty rough, at times. I can accept praise...so long as I remind myself of the mistakes I've made and the ways I could have done better. And that is in anything I do -- from cleaning my apartment to keeping my brother in his home to sketches I work up. Like any artist, I can see every screw-up.
Something that finally got me started on knowing it wasn't just me being like this was working at Heritage Book Shop. Part of the store's inventory was original artwork from illustrators like Arthur Rackham (left) and Kay Nielsen (below).
Rackham would sometimes use white paint to cover his mistakes, his version of Liquid Paper. Usually to cover art detail he didn't feel he needed, anymore.
Kay Nielsen did something similar in her work, using a light paint to cover a dark error and painting over it. It wouldn't show up once the art was transferred into print, but you can see if you look closely.
I'd always been of the school where there are no mistakes in art, and if there is one, make it part of the work. These two didn't, and turned out lovely images. They nudged me to see there is nothing perfect that was not once imperfect.
Corrections, it seems, are always necessary.
Of course, that leads me to wondering why I don't change my ways. Like procrastination and reticence on pushing my writing. Procrastination is just a writer's curse. You don't want to face the blankness of a page awaiting your brilliance, so you do anything but that and make excuses for yourself.
As for reticence, it's uncertainty that fuels my inability to sell myself, far more than fear. I've never thought I'm good enough to be successful at my work -- be it art, photography, film, or writing. In one part of my brain, I knew I'd do fine; but the more dominate part kept screaming, You've got to be kidding me. You, a writer? When you have typos and and questionable grammar in every sentence, and have never done well at expressing your thoughts?
It's pretty rough, at times. I can accept praise...so long as I remind myself of the mistakes I've made and the ways I could have done better. And that is in anything I do -- from cleaning my apartment to keeping my brother in his home to sketches I work up. Like any artist, I can see every screw-up.
Rackham would sometimes use white paint to cover his mistakes, his version of Liquid Paper. Usually to cover art detail he didn't feel he needed, anymore.
Kay Nielsen did something similar in her work, using a light paint to cover a dark error and painting over it. It wouldn't show up once the art was transferred into print, but you can see if you look closely.
Corrections, it seems, are always necessary.
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