Art, failure, fear.

Art is hard.
Things are hard.
I don’t think the hardness is the problem. I do plenty of hard things. I think the problem is the possibility of failure. The idea of rejection is more daunting than the hope of success. This is why I avoid certain things. This is why standing in a room full of artists, turning out easels to critique each other makes my pulse quicken. This is why art class is more uncomfortable than inspiring. To fail is to build up to success. But right now, the failing feels pretty bad.
I keep thinking, I want to make magic. I want to be magic. I want to pull heart strings. All of these things are just desires. They are in some ways goals, things I am afraid of missing out on. I’m afraid of making things that will never be loved. That will never mean anything to anyone. I’m afraid of pouring my heart out and never having it mean anything. I’m just afraid… I’ll be another sad artist who has to give up her dream. I’m so afraid I’ll have to give it all up, so in the process I do. I’m so afraid to fall that I don’t even stand up. This is why I procrastinate so badly. This is why I make excuses. This is why I avoid things I’m afraid of. Fear is more controlling than you think. I always tell people I’m not afraid of a lot of things. I don’t think this is true. My fears are just more emotional that others, instead of physical. I’m afraid of failing myself. I’m afraid of not being good at anything I love. I am afraid of love. More than anything in this world, I am afraid of love. But that is another topic for another day.
I don’t know.
As I said before, art is hard.
I scribble and scribble and scribble but none of it looks like art to me. It’s exactly that-scribbles.
I think maybe I should just do more and think less. The thinking, agonizing just gets in the way of the creativity. Art should be natural. Controlled but natural. It will flow. It will take thinking and mental strength, yes, but it takes heart. Heart and release. I must release all of these tangled emotions and fears and let them take shape in my work. I must intertwine them instead of letting them interfere. I must direct my passion or let it go. I can’t let it fester for too long or I may lose myself again.
I realize the source of a lot of my problems is fear. Fear of the past, fear of the present, fear of the future. I hate being afraid more than I hate any other emotion besides guilt. It is a paralyzing, physical emotion that will stop the feet from walking where they are supposed to go.
I can’t be afraid to try. I can’t be afraid to live. These statements seem too obvious, but it is not always so easy. Things are changing, and my body is resisting change. I can’t resist it anymore out fear of discomfort. Out of fear of growth. I must accept who I am and who I am meant to be. Who I am becoming. Art wise, intellectually, physically, I must embrace the change. It is all for the better.
Art is hard, things are hard, but hopefully with my acceptance of this change, this willingness to accept fear… I will be able to do hard things and enjoy them.