Artists, when did any of us decide that we were artists? The moment when our first grade teacher gave us a star on our best drawing? Or the moment when the lamp that we were sketching looked so real it was almost impossible to call it hand drawn.
I think I decided I was an artist when somebody called me by that title, about when I was 12. I was always something of a loner in my childhood and early teens, and being that kid who was average at everything else but could astonish everybody with the next thing she drew on paper was not something very ideal. So yes I could always draw, my family were the first people who made me realize that I could draw well. Then came class mates, and teachers. So yes, I knew I had a rare skill, it isn't a rare skill of course, there are thousands of people on the planet who are gifted similarly, but when you hear ooh aahs at every line you scratch on paper and find that you have an envious and admiring audience whenever you do, you start feeling pretty special. That skill becomes essential because you know that it is the only thing that gives you wings.
I like to think that I polished this skill because I loved art, don't get me wrong I did and I still do. But I think that I also loved being good at it and the feeling of knowing that I could do it better than anyone else I knew. So slowly gradually as color pencils became pastels and pastels became paint, my drawing pages started getting bigger and more expensive, I began to think that I could do it better than absolutely anyone. My art was good, but obviously I wasn't the best in the world, how could I possibly be even if my brain had trained itself to believe that absurdity. I loved drawing in public places, because obviously that is where all the admirers are. All the inferior people who couldn't do what I could. And then somebody told me that artists are rule breakers, they are different, they are not like ordinary people, so now I had an excuse for everything I didn't do well. Not good in social situations, artists don't need to interact with lesser beings, Not good at sports, artists don't need to stay healthy, they are procrastinators and they don't jump around. Can't handle depression, artists are supposed to stay depressed because the world isn't good enough for them.
YES I had some major issues.
But the most disturbing thing about all of it was that having those issues made me feel like more of an artist, as if I needed all that negative energy to fuel that deep seated ego. So it turned out that along the way I had started expecting people to think of me like I myself thought of myself. I still got the oohs and aahs but they were somehow no longer enough. I began to hate people because they didn't treat me like a superior being and they didn't understand me, how could they? they were inferior.
So even more of a loner, and more depressed and very much of an artist, I produced some of my best work, But that was it. So even my quality of work began to link itself to how miserable I was when I made it.
After a while I found myself admitted into an art school, climax. I began to take responsibility for some of my short comings and tried to improve somethings about myself, little did I know that my ego was one step ahead of me. While I was planning to say goodbye to depression and focus on having a good time, my ego was secretly planning to take over the world. I was in an art school, art was the thing I could do better than anyone else, of course I had to conquer the world. So I made some amazing friends, we had great laughs. I was doing well in studies. Then boom why wasn't I important? My brain began to nag me. Why weren't all my friends fawning over me? How could anyone make fun of me? Why weren't all the other students respectfully bowing their heads every time I headed in their direction? And then some foolish person managed to score more marks than me and it began.
From being an oblivious loner I became an attention seeking non loner who was very much aware of her unjust needs and ridiculous demands. So now I was having fun, I had friends, I was learning, do you want to know what my problem was? Why wasn't I the best at everything? Why wasn't I ruling everything? Dear God, I needed help.
So now I was depressed again, because now my vision of myself as a superior being, as an artist was being questioned everyday! People were doing better than me and if I wasn't an artist, a superior being? What was I?
Oh please no, NOT ordinary!
NOT average!
So was this kind of attitude the result of my having a skill, or the result of multiple factors revolving around me while I was honing that skill? Identifying these traits in one's self is nothing less than a nightmare believe me. But the more terrifying question is what next? How to think? How to accept? How to go on and become better? Yes I was good at something, I wasn't the best at it, I had to accept that. I was an artist, but an artist that had a long way to go yet. I had been using this as a cloak to shield me from becoming something less, to ignore my insecurities. If I couldn't do something, I just needed to give more time to it, If I still couldn't do it, than that was ok, I just needed to live without it because evidently it wasn't meant for me. But to feel less because others could do it and I could not and then to tell myself I wasn't like them and it was ok for someone like me to not be able to do it because I didn't need it. Well, it was wrong.
So yes, I was at the level of vain that surpassed even Hitler I should think, and it began developing inside me when I barely even knew what vain was. Being a straight person I think at this point has nothing to do with homosexuality. I wonder how many straight people really do exist in the world?
