this is one of those hurts-because-it’s-almost-too-true posts. bold mine.
There’s an illusion of permission, particularly in the arts, that you really should have the right kind of credential or background before you call yourself anything, before you utter the word “artist” or “poet” as a descriptor.Of course credentials are helpful. There’s no dispute that a formal program or academic certificate offers professional development and advancement. But what I’m referring to is the community level, grassroots, center-of-the body need to create and express ourselves. And the unfortunate tendency is to self-dismiss our drive because we are not really “authorized” to do so. In other words, we – those without permission – dare not dip our toes into the creative process or artistic world. We let it slip away.
Who has the license to create? Who gives YOU permission to move, bend, and contort paper, pen, ideas, words, clay, textile, paint, beads, voice into something that expresses a peace/piece inside you? […]
Why do we figure we need to earn something EXTRA before we allow ourselves to draw or sketch or, dammit, even just TRY something creative. To raise our fingers to an unfamiliar block of clay, an untouched canvas, or a blank page takes a steel rod of bravery.
We are moving into an age where the single nomad, crushing himself into a starving corner is no longer the picture of an artist or master creator. Today, artists are single mothers with two jobs and a bus pass. Photographers can be world travelers or lifetime small town dwellers. The elitism is bleeding out. Art is everyday. Artists should be as common as a worn kitchen table.
We may grow old. We may lose that fresh inspiration that wakes us up in the middle of the night. But the goal of creative work is not to be legendary or even remembered. The goal is to be free.
YES YES YES
In late 2008 I was so inspired by the street performance and burlesque acts at Woodford but I didn’t think I’d ever reach their level, to the point of starting a short-lived Facebook group called “I’m Not Cool Enough To Be A Performance Artist”.
Several months later, after having performed a number of burlesque, improv, and performance art shows, getting a Best New Talent nod, and causing controversy, I find myself at the Big Top in Island Vibe, nearly crying because it was like being at Woodford all over again…just from the other side. The other side that, just less than a year ago, I didn’t dare think was possible.
But it wasn’t until a couple of days after Island Vibe - after performing at a major Queensland festival - that I felt legitimate as an artist. Why? Because I went to an SBS shoot in Sydney, for something about intelligence, and I was listed on their website as a “performance artist”. It felt official. I could actually claim that title without sounding wanky to myself.
Yet I get really annoyed when people argue “they can’t call themselves writers!” or “they can’t call themselves artists!” etc. Maybe not a career artist, if it’s not your mode of money, but is it only legitimate if you do it full time or for income?
What good are labels for anyway?
Ahhh I so hear this. For years I’ve been uncomfortable calling myself an artist. Even after going to university to STUDY art, and being a graphic designer for nearly 10 years. Even after exhibiting my art. WHAT WHAT WHAT!
Youse should be what you wanna be. It’s excellent.