Friday, January 29, 2016
Entrepreneurial Artisty at the Hermitage
The previous 2 posts were quotes from that same podcast I keep talking about:
Specifically Session #54 Music Placement, Crowdfunding and Building Personal Relationships with guest Erick Macek
Whew! Quite the mouthful. Textful? Anywho.
Sometimes it's a little difficult to extrapolate the "musician as business" info into the craft and art world. But I try. Because that is my world...or at least the world I circle while trying to get the nerve to jump in properly.
I love the way music feels. The way it surrounds and fills the body, the mind, the soul.
However, the only music that ever came out of me ended at 17 when the state mandated public school education was completed. So just Jr. High and High school band stuff.
Yeah, I said "Jr High". What do you want, I'm old. I was educated in the days before middle schools. You know. Back before people thought it was a good idea to mix 6th grade tiny playful children with 8th grade angst driven just-teens.
I digress. (That's something to which you might as well resign yourself to encountering in my blogging.)
Growing up, I had lots of artistic leanings "interests". High school in particular saw participation in Band, One Act Play, Ready Writing (UIL event. Uh. University Interscholastic League, I believe) and playing around in the kitchen at home.
Neither playing music nor acting on a stage made it into my adulthood. Always thought that was because I lack passion. A personal inner failing that interfered with my ability to fully commit to those careers or those kind of people.
Actually, I still believe that being passionless is the root of my checkered history of poorly pursued life pursuits. Only now, I'm beginning to better understand the soil requirements.
Several mini-epiphanies on the subject have happened due to that podcast I mentioned a blitheringly long while ago.
In good ole #54, I realized that I am not only incapable of feeling the passion that drives a creative individual, but I'm also fundamentally incapable of establishing personal relationships.
I'vs always found networking and schmoozing to be repellant. I have no talent for them and I have no tolerance for rejection.
Simply put, I hate seeking out people. But I also desperately crave human contact.
I want to be loved but I don't know how. No, really. I've actually been told in the past that I won't let people love me. I found that very odd, confusing and frustrating.
Human interaction is a lot of work for me. I feel obligated to be positive and cheerful. I have to make them laugh or keep them entertained with wide ranging conversations.
While in the thick of it, I enjoy doing those things and being with people. It's the drained mental energy, the exhausted soul and the lack of depth in those connections that torture me.
All of this makes me unwilling to put myself out there. How can I build personal relationships? I have nothing to offer anyone. Just the teasing and sarcasm. That gets old, transparent and eventually avoided. And so do I.
And if I do try for more, for something of substance, I dive too deep and drive people away.
I'm apparently a zero OR sixty kind of gal. Meaningless fluff or desperate need to connect at much too deep a level. Nothing in between. Neither seems to be what people want.
They had some really useful things to say in that podcast. Practical. Profound. But all I could think about was how much I fear rejection. How easily I break. How no one wants to hear any of this whinning shit and especially not from me.
So, I'm screwed. Ironically. Wouldn't know what to do with any of it if I had it. Don't know how to be a friend, a mate, a colleague. Don't even know how to learn how.
So, great podcast. Great info and ideas. All things fairly easy to extrapolate into my fiber art wannabe world. I should. I would if I could.
I don't know how.
Have to rewire myself and learn.
On my own.
I'm the only one that will have me.
That's bad for business.
That's bad for me.
Gotta figure this out. Seek them out. Anyone. Everyone. Without alienation.