Internet Micro-Fame Is A Drug
As someone who has been publicly recognized for my work, I often worry that if what I'm doing isn't recognized, how could it possibly be as good as what I did before? Is my best work behind me?
Yesterday I read this in The Artist's Way:
Fame is a spiritual drug. It is often a by-product of our artistic work, but like nuclear waste, it can be a very dangerous by-product. Fame, the desire to attain it, the desire to hold on to it, can produce the "How am I doing?" syndrome. This question is not "Is the work going well?" This question is "How does it look to them?"
The point of the work is the work. Fame interferes with that perception. Instead of acting being about acting, it becomes about being a famous actor. Instead of writing being about writing, it becomes about being recognized, not just published.
We all like credit where credit is due. As artists, we don't always get it. Yet, focusing on fame -- on whether we are getting enough -- creates a continual feeling of lack. There is never enough of the fame drug. Wanting more will always snap at our heels, discredit our accomplishments, erode our joy at another's accomplishment. [...]
What we are really scared of is that without fame we won't be loved -- as artists or as people. The solution to this is concrete, small, loving actions. We must actively, consciously, consistently, and creatively nuture our artist selves.
When the fame drug hits, go to your easel, your typewriter, your camera or clay. Pick up the tools of your work and begin to do just a little creative play.
Soon, very soon, the fame drug should start to lessen its hold. The only cure for the fame drug is creative endeavor. Only when we are being joyfully creative can we release the obsession with others and how they are doing.
Yep, that's about right.
Originally published at paultevis.com.
Yesterday I read this in The Artist's Way:
Fame is a spiritual drug. It is often a by-product of our artistic work, but like nuclear waste, it can be a very dangerous by-product. Fame, the desire to attain it, the desire to hold on to it, can produce the "How am I doing?" syndrome. This question is not "Is the work going well?" This question is "How does it look to them?"
The point of the work is the work. Fame interferes with that perception. Instead of acting being about acting, it becomes about being a famous actor. Instead of writing being about writing, it becomes about being recognized, not just published.
We all like credit where credit is due. As artists, we don't always get it. Yet, focusing on fame -- on whether we are getting enough -- creates a continual feeling of lack. There is never enough of the fame drug. Wanting more will always snap at our heels, discredit our accomplishments, erode our joy at another's accomplishment. [...]
What we are really scared of is that without fame we won't be loved -- as artists or as people. The solution to this is concrete, small, loving actions. We must actively, consciously, consistently, and creatively nuture our artist selves.
When the fame drug hits, go to your easel, your typewriter, your camera or clay. Pick up the tools of your work and begin to do just a little creative play.
Soon, very soon, the fame drug should start to lessen its hold. The only cure for the fame drug is creative endeavor. Only when we are being joyfully creative can we release the obsession with others and how they are doing.
Yep, that's about right.
Originally published at paultevis.com.