Day thirty-one: Insecurity.

I'm sorry I haven't been a consistent writer lately. Luckily there aren't too many of you out there waiting for the nuggets I'm throwing into the universe. If you are out there, please say hi, it would be great to hear from you, and  I would love to know if there is something that you'd like to hear about.

I'm having a hard time tonight. It's a combination of big and little things. That's how it is though, isn't it?  A few twigs start rolling down a hill and by the time they get to the bottom they have felled trees. It is hard figuring out what to do as a normal person when your whole life you've just wanted to be an artist. Since I was little the only two things I ever wanted to do were to be an artist and to be rich. Magically rich, the kind that just appears. I never wanted bling, or big toys or whatever. It is more that money means security and stability to me. Money, when I was a kid, meant that no matter what life throws at me I'll be ok. Even though I know better, it still feels like that now. There is no stability in being an artist, but there is no deep joy in being anything else for me. I start to feel strained and pulled too far by all the compromises, the obligations, the weight. Every few years it hits me in an especially hard way, and that's happening again recently.

My aunt, the one I wrote about, passed away this morning. She spent so much of her life working so hard, missing time with her family, waiting to travel and to rest. She got sick less than four months into her retirement. I feel numand not sure how to deal with her passing.

Simultaneously, the city I live in feels like it is under siege financially. It is not the calamity of the protests that have been happening in other parts of the world, it's not that clear. Technology came in a big way, and money with it. New values, new members of a community that don't seem to be into preserving what the city was before they came. Some places that are special to me have recently had the rug pulled out from under them. A new value system is in place, one I don't respect.

I am not a fighter. I can argue, but I'm not very good at it. I'm easy to distract. I get emotionally charged, which makes me all fluttery. I become scared of losing or hurting the person I'm arguing with and the argument wanders into random pastures, no matter who that person is. I used to be very passionate about being part of change, of paradigm shifts that affect how people think and treat each other. I used to believe very firmly in change that happens from the inside out, that by developing a new idea of success that everyone has a stake in, we can affect a larger cultural shift. I'm not sure what I believe now. I want to go sit on a rock in the twilight and watch the trees talk to each other. I don't want to fight, even though I believe that there are many things that are worth fighting for.

I want to be an artist, and what that means seems to change every day. That's confusing too. We only get one chance at this life thing. There are so many things we can do. I applied to some residencies, I'm making some work. I have people I love. I'm looking for some adventure.  I'm ready to take another risk, but I want to move toward something, not away from what I don't want.  I wish that it was easier to name what I want. I'm relatively clear on what I don't want.

I don't want to feel stuck. I don't want to talk people into something that may hurt them more than it helps. I don't want to focus my precious time on things that don't serve my dreams. I don't know what my dreams are anymore, because the only ones I can concretely name are tied to monetary and industry ideas of success that I don't believe in. I've spent most of my years traveling by myself, and I don't want to wander this path alone anymore. I don't want to  define myself by what I see in the eyes of the people around me. I don't want to play by anyone else's rules. I don't know where to start writing my own.

This all feels very naked to me to write. I want to share it because even in this age of over sharing, it is easy to feel alone. Every artist feels some form of fear and insecurity in their identity, their relationship to the wider world. If you haven't already, this letter from Sol Lewitt to Eva Hesse is amazing. Thank you for listening. Good night friends.