So busy. Can't get it all done. Trying so hard but never catching up. If I actually do any artwork then I can never keep the blog going. If I blog intensely I never get off the computer. Running in circles. Manic. Panic.
Mailed off my sketchbook yesterday. Huge relief. Spend all evening on computer managing my account at the Artist Co-op and now today trying to learn how to upload images at Flikr. I don't feel like an artist. I feel like a file manager. I export the files to a smaller size. I put my name on them like a wolf peeing on the corner of her pictures. Then I ever so reluctantly upload them into the threatening and scary place that I've been resisting for so long: cyber airspace.
Despite really wanting to share my stuff, I'm nervous to put it out there. I wish I could send my data along with heavily armed, bad-ass soldiers complete with cigarettes dangling from their mouths. A couple of fighter jets flanking either side of each file would be a nice touch too.
My angst is not because I'm worried that people will think my work sucks. It's worse. I'm worried that people will think it's so great that they'll steal it.
Isn't that so lame? What a weenie. What an arrogant weenie. As if my comprehensive collection of German culture is so marvelous that desperate creatives are going to high-jack it and jump-start their own careers, all because they saw or took my images. And I will wind up laying around despondent in my home on a chaise lounger (empty wine bottle in hand) slurring bitter and sarcastic comments to my loved ones.
Jeez TJ, that is tragically sad.
Peeps, I need reassurance. Am I nuts? Do the rest of your worry about this crap? C'mon. You can tell me. Let's just talk about it.
Here's my Flikr photostream if anybody wants to have a lookie. I'd love some feedback 'cuz I've got not clue what I'm doing..
This is what it must feel to be a Hampelmann. Somebody else pulls the string and your arms and legs wave around. Existing in a constant state of response to other people's action. At the mercy of others at all times. Wondering if they'll pull so hard they'll snap the string off or yank until one of the limbs snaps.