An Artist’s Condition?
by Elizabeth Webb…
I am filled with an anxiety that alludes me. Why am I so nervous right now? It’s some general sense of fear that is making my stomach tight and filling me with discomfort. But I don’t know why I feel fearful. Usually, I know specifically why I’m afraid or nervous but sometimes there is this: this anxiousness that creeps over me and, even if I realize that it is simply “fear.” I still cannot for the life of me figure out why I am so afraid.
What am I afraid of? Or is this just something that happens as we age? These moments of general fear with no seeming object of that fear? I am 35 years old. I am single, I still have a roommate and I am not sure whether I will ever have what this world defines as success in my career. Is this why I am full of fear? Simply because the clock, it would seem, is ticking? But ticking toward what?
It would seem that something in me expects there to be a time in my life when I “settle down,” have a home, a family or, at least, a loved one to share my life with. Isn’t this something we all want in one way or another? I live in a big city . Most people are single and living as I am well into their middle years. I know two women who did not have their first child until the age of 42 and I know men and women of the same age who are still single, still dating, still living with a roommate and still pursuing a career not yet blossomed with that job on the side that “pays the bills.”
It shouldn’t need to be said that many societies and cultures function very differently. I recently visited the Dominican Republic and had the opportunity to spend some time drinking cervezas with a few locals and two other American women who were vacationing as well. When the local men were told that these two American women were in their early 40’s, still single, not married, no children, they practically fell out of their chairs saying, “We have grandmothers that age!”
In many parts of the U.S., building a family and a solid career starts right out of college or soon thereafter; and even in New York, one of the biggest cities in the world, there are small clusters of inner-city culture that, like the locals in the D.R. would say that they have grandparents in their early 40’s, marriages and families started in the early 20’s, and aunties who are 10.
Could it simply be that big cities with big artistic cultures draw artists who, historically, have a hard time building a career with their art? The “poor starving artist,” right? But, in New York alone, there are many artists earning a very good living from their craft. And what about all of the other people—those in finance, business, production, magazine publication, fashion, or teaching?
Maybe it isn’t about what you “do,” or about your career but a habit that is part of this culture. A habit of “holding out for the next best thing.” Holding out for the next better job, the next better boyfriend or girlfriend, the next better apartment or the next better group of friends, the next better body or spiritual fulfillment—waiting for your real life to begin or waiting for everything to be perfect before you settle down somewhere or with someone or just simply waiting to be able to say, “NOW everything is just perfect with my life. NOW I am complete.”
But what is this “real life?” And, for that matter, what is “perfect?” Maybe this general fear that I am feeling at 35 years of age is simply a growing awareness that if I keep “holding out,” I may just miss out. Could it be that if I could accept that I am living my life NOW, that my life could possibly, just possibly be “perfect” right NOW, that my career is successful NOW, no matter what stage it is in, then I would actually find myself settling down inside of myself even if things don’t appear to be settled on the outside.
Holding out for what is best and necessary for ourselves is a good, good thing but holding out and not being open to what is available and offered right now may be trapping us in a never-ending cycle of thinking that satisfaction in this life will only come when we find that “next best thing.”
I want to hold out for true love and a fulfilling career and a beautiful home but what if I already have it or could have it if I just open my eyes and lived my life RIGHT NOW and not in the future? Maybe, if I could be open to that possibility, I would have riches beyond comprehension in all areas of my life and maybe, just maybe, I could live without fear.
September 21st, 2007 at 1:17 pm
[…] 21 September 2007 Posted by TAE in Art, Personal reflection. trackback I found this post on Via Affirmativa interest, to my surprise. I started out a little more like a rant than I prefer, […]
September 22nd, 2007 at 3:32 pm
I grok this. I have definitely felt the same way– about slightly different circumstances though, which makes the shared experience more interesting. I’m 30, married, and have one child and one on the way. I live 2.4 miles from the house where I grew up. I’ve travelled some, but still have much of Asia, all of Africa and South America to experience… and I haven’t left the country in 2 years and 4 months. My angst is not about when I will have the settled-down life. I am fearful of being too settled. I never dreamed I would actually be this normal and settled. My career as a musician seems to have taken the furthest back seat of the biggest suburban mini-van that I vowed I would never own. I’m not sure how to proceed. I love my husband and child. I love the feeling of Jerry McGuire-like completeness that I have in these relationships. But there’s this nagging inner voice that constantly asks, “Are you changing the world? When are you going to get started on that?”
As I look around me at the musicians and artists and actors I know in NY, I’ve realized that I don’t know any who have kids. A few are married or with “THE ONE”, but no kids. My fear? What if it’s impossible to be successful in music and have a (functional) family? (If anyone knows someone like this in the NYC area, PLEASE introduce me!). What if I’ve chosen a path that leads to mediocrity? Can I live with that?
In Corinthians God talks about all the parts of the body being equal. I know that must be true, but most of me doesn’t yet believe it. Seriously, it’s difficult. That’s saying that regular Joe Shmoe from Phillipi who led a normal family life and job was just as important as Paul the apostle. That’s really hard for me to see.
Take Gollum in Lord of the Rings… he had a part to play in destroying The Ring at the end. Gandalf alluded to the idea that even someone as pathetic as Gollum could have a significant role. But do readers ever dream about being Gollum? Doesn’t everybody want to be Gandalf or Aragorn or Frodo (who was a cut above the average hobbit)? Does anyone ambitiously dream of being the average hobbit? Are we wrong to want that? Is our standard of excellence skewed?
I guess this plays into the discussion on excellence. What is success? I know the “right” answer seems to be that excellence is determined by how hard you’ve worked at something, the honor with which you do it, the way in which it glorifies God… but there is something in me that roars loudly at this idea. Isn’t excellence just excellence? Is a five year old’s abstract clay sculpure really excellent? And when can my loving of a person be truly judged as loving excellently? Furthermore, is it really good enough to be profoundly impacting just 1 person? Is there a set standard for excellence somewhere in God’s mind? Or is it really all relative?
These would be nice “food for thought” questions in my head, but like Elizabeth, they send me into a complete panic. When will I achieve excellence? Did I miss the opportunity? Am I screwing up the possibility right now? It’s paralyzing.
From what I’ve seen I think the combative measure against these fears seems to be to just live and work hard and ignore the questions. But I’m kind of hoping there are real answers (maybe I just don’t want to deal with the process of trusting God and walking forward not knowing). Can we answer these questions on excellence definitively so we can stop having these panic attacks? I have a sinking feeling that it’s like Glinda says to Dorothy at the end of The Wizard of Oz when Dorothy asks why Glinda never told her she wore the power to go home whenever she wanted– “You wouldn’t have believed me. You had to find the answer for yourself.”
But in the hopes that Glinda is wrong, or that you have a clearer map of the yellow brick road, please reply
September 26th, 2007 at 12:30 am
Funny, I just attempted a wise comment on a friend’s site about the reverse of this phenomenon — she was seeking the same success she had found before in life and art. I tried to let her know the value of both as she has affected me, and how the currency of her example and her encouragement was way above average.
I also am a wife, mother of two and an artist (in life and art?). There was a time I focused solely on my artwork and met with bits of success while usually cloistered in my studio, single and then newly married. Now, I interact with a variety of people more often and sometimes have to connect the dots. Some ideas sketched out will have to wait while others come to the surface now. My art changes as my life changes. There is more fuel for my vision, hopefully refinement and depth in my work. I offer what I can and am always blessed. I fall on my face at times, too, in my decisions and am not always appreciated, but I will keep going. I know what I am doing is important and makes a difference. Just doing and being all the things I am really supposed to be deep down in my dna feels heroic at times, and yet this adventure and challenge keeps me going, and it is what I love. I appreciate hearing where you are at, because I am there in different ways at times, a bit unsettled, or seemingly too settled. Can my roles be integrated by me being me all the time?
But this is my mantra: Keep doing and being who God called you to be. Keep learning, give and go forward. This simplicity is the key to Paul’s, Aragorn’s, Frodo’s & Dorothy’s success. Just think of all the people they met along the way, how they helped each other, and the adventures they had, though they were grounded at home in various ways. We all just need to discover our proverbial magic shoes which give us the ability to be at home wherever we are and to know where home is, where our heart is, where our brain is, and to summon our courage. We may find those familial relationships deeper still. There will be a spring of thankfulness and confidence in our step, when our loved ones give us the freedom to become what we should become while we continue to serve them. This is collaboration at its best and grittiest. We may find we cannot do this alone, that we need companions, too. We may find that once we have tasted this challenging adventure and are truly at home, we will someday be ready to leave for the distant shores of another adventure beyond this life’s reality.
September 26th, 2007 at 7:19 pm
*amen*
I think there’s nothing wrong with planning for a future as long as it’s grounded in the realization that today is the only moment we’re guaranteed we can celebrate.
September 28th, 2007 at 7:35 am
I don’t know the answers to Elizabeth’s and Sunita’s questions, but I’m thankful someone is asking. I also long to find where I belong in this world, and settle down. I want to build something; give everything I have to make the world a better place. And yet at 31, I’m already seeing a lot of things that can’t ever be made right here. After six years of marriage, eagerly wanting children, my husband and I lost our only pregnancy to miscarriage this spring. There are no treatments left that we’re willing to try. My friend has just been diagnosed with aggressive cancer, and I am wondering silently if her husband will have to raise four small children alone without his beautiful, joyous young wife. My father is starting to fear that he’s seeing the first signs of the mental degeneration that claimed his own mother. These aren’t things I can “hold out” for God to fix. He hasn’t promised me children, or health, or life. He has promised me death, and eternal life.
I, too, feel certain that excellence has content - that it’s not all based on “effort.” But I don’t think that I have eyes to see all the excellence around me in the world. I think this is why we needed to be told in Corinthians that at the end of time, the fire will test and reveal the quality of everyone’s work. My husband and I have begun praying for eyes to see the God’s excellence in the hidden places - silent, faithful saints who never become well-known. Incredible talents exercised in out-of-the-way places for the sake of the kingdom, like Lillias Trotter’s. It takes eyes of faith to see that Joe Schmoe, who never even made the greetings at the end of an epistle, could be as important as Paul. But that is the incredible thing that our faith does teach, and struggling to believe it is a worthwhile effort. I’ve seen a lot of dreams die in the last few years, and I want to make sure that when I’m holding out, I’m holding out for heaven. And I think somewhere in THAT holding out lies the key to settling in well in this unsettling place, and to building while we wait.
September 28th, 2007 at 10:14 am
Elizabeth
What a powerful story you have provoked. Thanks so much. What great value is given to our lives. It is hard to see in th midst of it. But friom me to you. You are great encouragent as you share your story
Gary
October 5th, 2007 at 11:29 pm
Wow everyone. I haven’t checked in for a bit and reading all of these comments, I am overwhelmed and my brain is moving at high speed! Thank you all for your words. How beautiful you all are! Look at the wisdom on this page! I will be re-reading your thoughts again just to try to absorb it all even more. It’s amazing isn’t it? Once He opens our eyes, we have the answer it just takes time and life and struggles and suffering to help us, like Sunita said, finally see it for ourselves and in our own unique lives. Thank you all for your thoughts.
I just watched a documentary called “Rise”. I would highly recommend it as relates to this discussion but also relating to art, art that springs from need and pain and faith and this “unsettling place”.
Elizabeth
October 23rd, 2007 at 10:49 am
Elizabeth, beautiful writing! When you are vulnerable to others and show how human you are, it evokes responses of how human we all are. Life can be many things, but if we are just being safe it is not an adventure. I salute you that you are living! What an adventure. Not easy, actually much harder. If you follow what God has for you, it won’t matter where you are in life, you will be where you are supposed to be. I just saw Mel Gibson’s movie Apocalypto which addressed fear. It was very thought provoking. Fear can be disabilitating. It is said not to fear but to trust in God. I have found that this doesn’t mean that we will have a perfect life, void of pain, but if we are held in his peace no matter our circumstances. This is when we will really live. It is easy to write, but very difficult to live as we tend to get in the way. Blessings to you from God on this journey, this wonderful adventure of life.
October 27th, 2007 at 8:24 pm
Wow! Great topic and great writing. (I either need to check in more often or look more carefully - I just found this.)
I have or have had the same or similar questions as Elizabeth and Sunita. At 50+, single, and with Parkinson’s, the questions have morphed and changed as chapters have closed and opened. At times a question seemed answered only to poke up in a later chapter wearing a different costume. Answers from earlier chapters are tested in later ones and reveal either sand or rock. Questions that once were big seem trivial while new ones rise and become big. And the chapters keep turning.
Some of the questions you ask are, for me, answered. Some I share, but with a different twist. Some are still floating out there. Some you don’t ask.
For now,
Tom
November 1st, 2007 at 8:09 am
When I wrote the previous comment, I had actually written more, but for various reasons, deleted much and just left questions.
This morning, while spending time with God, I looked back on earlier journal entries on this date and found one that said many of the things that I deleted from the previous comment. So, just in case I was to have written what I deleted, I posted the journal entry here: http://xcerpts.wordpress.com/2007/11/01/1-november/