Nothing satisfies an artist. We are creatures who’ve got self-doubt running in our veins. Everywhere we go we remind ourselves of our inadequacy to be better/best. We hold our failures on a pedestal rather than letting our victories dance around our mind. Even to call ourselves artist only springs up an emotion of cringe in us.
The myth of the tortured artist seduces the extremes of our mind. The imposter in us tries to see our life through that lens of being ahead of our times, no one understanding us. All of it becomes an amalgamation of our insecurities and a tool to feel better about ourselves.
To feel better about ourselves.
Isn’t that an irony? We have been led to believe that the best art comes from a place of darkness. Where the art serves as a catharsis for our sorry situation. It helps other who aren’t that well articulated with that similar feeling of darkness. They feel better, even if only for a moment. But an artist pines for their validation to feel about themselves.
We tried to dig deep into our souls to say something that hasn’t been said before, to remind people of a truth that they no longer recognise. Everything serves the purpose of the enlightenment of the truth. Then if you are lucky enough to be famous for just saying the truth, you also are unlucky enough to find a fake life of fame awaiting you, where branding becomes everything. PR machineries manipulating your reputation to make it seem better in the minds of people so that they can hear the next truth you want to say.
All you ever try to do is then to try to extend time. Your 60 seconds of fame. When these 60 seconds are about to be over. You try to change the definition of time. To say the truth the artist has to battle themselves and their mind. Everything about their life seems like an illusion. As if they’ve stopped living and started to dream in a nightmare of lies. Meaning becomes their service. They are out there to give meaning to their art in this meaningless world.
It’s this duality that is so conflicting that eats away their equilibrium of life. Once you get famous you’ve stopped being a person and started to become a product to be sold in people’s minds. Faking confidence seems to be the only option to keep on living. You lose the power to make a mistake. Every word you say becomes a performance now. I hope you liked mine.