I've started this blog topic about five times, each time deleting everything I've written and closing the browser. It's hard to put into words both the compassionate understanding I have for what people were going through at the time and my extreme frustration and heartbreak with how my work was received. Or, I guess, wasn't.
The Now Presenting Collection took me six months to plan and execute. Not to mention the hours spent promoting it and telling people about it, the invitations I made, the celebrities I had invited, and planning the trip to California. There was supposed to be an exhibit at New Profanity. It would've been my first solo exhibit in Los Angeles.
Then the pandemic hit. I had an undeserved faith in people in general to take care of each other and wear masks and wash hands and social distance. I slowly realized that Americans don't know how to take care of each other. I knew my show wasn't going to happen and I wrapped myself in a blanket of self-pity.
I know everyone else who had a modicum of consideration for others was going through the same thing I was; disappointment, sadness, anger with our fellow Americans for being so selfish. There was also the (ongoing) fight for equality for black lives, more physical attacks on other people of color, the upcoming (now past) election, etc. Our country was in turmoil and I wasn't the only one with problems. In fact, I had very few problems compared to many.
That knowledge did not keep the deep despondence at bay. I pushed through, despite it all, and started gearing my promotions and social media posts towards a digital art show instead. The day came. The digital exhibit launched.
I don't know if the collection just sucked and no one was connected to it or if the collection was good, but people weren't connecting to it, because the time was so unsettling. I'm not fishing for compliments on the collection. I'm just trying to express that the entire experience was really emotionally and mentally draining, yet I got very little out of it. It was all build-up and no orgasm, so to speak.
I'm hard-pressed to want to commit to painting again. All this to say. I'm just a little scared is all. I'm working up to it. I just know that there's going to be some bad work before I settle back in. It's kind of like starting over. And I'm just not ready, yet.
Thanks for being patient with me. It means more to me than you'll ever know.
<3 The Pop Art Girl
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