It’s Saturday, I’ve finished all but one portion of the Utata project (I have yet to finish the text portion of my photojournalism entry) and, more importantly, I’ve finished off a busy week.
This week, I really feel a sense of accomplishment, since I submitted a portfolio for review to a major gallery. I really don’t think that I will get the show (in fact, I’m certain that I won’t get the show) but I submitted the packet because I happen to know who makes up the “review committee” (it’s some interesting people.)
If I get the show or not, well, it doesn’t really matter to me now. My feeling of accomplishment comes not from actually submitting work to these (interesting) people, rather, it comes from the fact that I submitted the best possible portfolio that I could have submitted. I really feel very strongly that the work I presented to them was a cohesive body of work that, while not “pretty” in the traditional sense of the word, is truly novel. It’s work that doesn’t look like anybody else’s work. It’s not derivative. It’s work like you’ve never seen before. It’s work that, well, it’s entirely “me” in every sense of the word.
I’ve been trying for a long time to gather a cohesive body of work that is new, novel, non-derivative, and whoomp! there it is. I define this as success, even if I don’t get the show (which, I’m sure, I won’t.) Because this work is such a part of me, so defined by me, so created by me, well, frankly, I don’t care if they like it or not. I don’t care if they accept it. It’s already a success in ways they cannot even imagine.
That’s not even the start of it either. I submitted about five things in the past week. I’m on fire in terms of marketing my crap-on-a-stick. I don’t know what’s gotten into me but, lately anyway, I’m sending my stuff out in record pace.
Sure, there’s a lot more to come, a lot more shows to enter, a lot more portfolios to submit to galleries but, after this week anyway, I can take it at a more leisurely pace. I can sort of kick back, take my time, gather my thoughts, and enjoy myself.
When I’m exhibiting my work, I like to think of myself as a juggler. Even though I don’t actually know how to juggle, I do know that the cardinal rule of juggling, if you will, the creedo that keeps the knives from chopping off your toes, is to “always have one ball in the air.” I try to live by this when I’m exhibiting.
What does it mean? Well, that’s a bit harder to describe but, basically, you want to get yourself into a state where you always have something out for review, something “out there” that somebody is looking at, a show result that you haven’t heard back from yet. You do this so that, when the rejections come, and they do (they come for all of us, don’t kid yourself) you always have hope out there on that horizon. Sure, you might have gotten rejected TODAY but, who knows what tomorrow will bring? It’s in that hope where all the fun lies.
Right now, I’ve got more hope than sleep but, hey, that’s ok too. I can always take a nap but I can’t send my stuff out so easily. It’s hard to buy yourself some hope, it’s a lot easier to take a nap.
Some day I may actually learn how to juggle-the “real” kind not what I’m doing now but, until then, this ought to tide me over.
Until next time…
