My avatar here is only one side of me. It is the part that says “Hey! Look at me!” and represents my illustration style. Kind of girly and fun, whimsical and retro-chic. It’s on my website and business card, and I guess you could call it part of my “brand licensing,” although that phrase never existed when I was in my real heyday. It suggests not only that the glass is half-full but probably fizzing over.
If you look behind the confident pose, the red skirt, you’ll see a truer picture of who I am. And the way I am choosing to live a creative life.
This would be done in a slower time, with quiet materials. Lost trinkets, loose threads, bits of packaging that once protected fragile items. Strands of wire, shards of glass, backdrops of chipboard. Old family photos, fading memories, passed along to me, the human reliquary who finds meaning in far too many things.
Today I received an email notice to enter an art competition. Feeling that it might finally be time to push this very personal side of me into the glare of a spotlight, out of the quiet corners, I started uploading images. I reached the end: the point where I would pay either $25 or $50. I went back and read the fine print:
Share your work with friends, family and colleagues and have them collect your artwork for a chance at the $2,500 People's Choice Award.
Just follow this checklist and you’ll be on your way to being the People’s Choice Artist:
+ Show off your profile with the share buttons on your portfolio
+ Encourage the people you know to spread the word about your entry to their friends
+ Have your friends hit the Collect button to collect you
+ The more collections you get into, the higher your chances of winning the People's Choice Prize
+ The highest collected artist will be the People's Choice Artist and receive a $2,500 cash grant.
Thanks for participating and good luck!
And I realized that I just can’t. I can’t hawk my work on Facebook and try to win a popularity contest. I can’t bother people this way. More importantly, I can’t do this to myself.
I am having trouble finding a real world to live in, to work in, to share in. I’ve wrestled with my attitude almost every day for the last few years, and I keep coming back to some true north in my soul.