Shame. Envy. The Creative Urge. Discuss.

So I start reading someone's blog, or their short story, or their novel, or perhaps I go visit a gallery and see someone's paintings/sculptures/baskets/whatever, and I see something that strikes me as amazingly great. (Great music rarely affects me this way, probably because it's farther away from my own creative impulses...I appreciate music but I don't so much want to make it, except maybe the singing part, or occasionally the drumming, so maybe I take that back...but I digress.)

So anyway I see or hear or experience this great stuff, then I get this weird simultaneous feeling of envy (cos their stuff is so great and I want to be that cool/talented/well-known/respected/creative/whatever) and inspiration (cos good art of any sort makes me want to make my own art...RIGHT NOW). And mixed with that is a little bit of shame, strangely--shame that I'm envious, shame that I can't really be that good of a creative soul if it takes someone else's goodness to get me going...I don't know exactly why. There also seems to be a good dollop of frustration and self-loathing in those "wow that's some good art" experiences...but I think this is just par for the course when you're a creative type so I've learned to disregard it (mostly).

See here's the thing...I think as an artist you NEED to surround yourself with other art. You need things to bounce off, things to react to, to get you going. It's not a bad thing. But as a fledgling artist (or at least a non-nationally recognized and adored one, as of course I'd like to be) it's sometimes so hard to be face-to-face with just how good someone else's art is, cos it makes it hard to believe that yours is/was/will ever be that good. Hence the envy/jealousy/shame/self-loathing bit. Ewww. Does this ever happen to you?

Thank goodness for Anne Lamott and her rants on jealousy, now I know I'm not the only one. ;) (If you want a great book about writing which also applies to just generally making art and life, go read Bird By Bird. Outstandingly inspirational. In fact I have two copies. I'll give you one. Really.)

And as a last non-parenthetical parenthetical, I'd like to just point out that I'm taking a pretty broad definition of "art" and "artist" here...anything will do. I myself tend towards the labels "writer" and "painter" but like a true Aquarian I hate labels and being pinned down to anything. So don't let me harsh your labeling process either.

Ok I lied. One last stream-of-consciousness bit here (Editing? Rewriting? That's for the weak. I do that on my real writing, not here. Hence the name of the damn blog, for goodness' sake): I wish I had the time to really wallow around in the "art" world (whatever that might be). I just love the idea of being one o' them privileged artist/writer/sculptor/painter/musician/photographer/whatever types who surrounds themselves with other artists doing artsy things day in and day out, and who can spend allllll the time they want either making their art or navelgazing about why they are/aren't/can/can't/will be/won't be making their art.

(Sheesh maybe I should call this blog "Parentheticals and Postmodern Slashes"...did grad school really leave that big a mark on me? The horror!)

Ok must stop now and go pick up the kid from daycare. Though I finally feel like I might be having fun on this blog. (Voice, come! I command ye! Whee!)