Being successful in whatever you choose to do drives many Artists and Designers. Some fall in to the trap of hunger for approval. It is an extension of the pat on the back from Daddy or the hug from Mummy for having done a nice drawing. The idea of competitions, prizes, even exhibitons have a slightly sickening air. There is nothing wrong with doing something well; repairing our own car, fixing your own plumbing can be just as rewarding. Trying to impress ones peers is a hurdle to be crossed, involvement with a group or movement pins one in time, fashions change. Hunger for approval stems, usually from sibling rivalry or other early childhood dilemnas. Having lost my mother at a young age I can be unaspirational. There is a tendency for me to drift toward self destruction. Whenever I come close to the centre of attention something from deep within me intrudes, like a tourettes of the soul born of a lack of self worth. Any success dependant on the approval of others I reject. Success, some find hard to measure, I don't. It is the relationship between expectaion and hope compared to achievement. Usually those without this internal barometer look to wealth or attention to guage their success; looks like failure to me.
I have always admired those that reject the applause and awards choosing to self regulate. To accept plaudits can mean an end to endeavour; ones standards should always be higher. I do respect those who can accept graceiously as an occuptional hazard yet have little time for the squealing child remaining in some adults and utter disust at those who once stood as outsiders, berating the establishment only to kiss their cheeks once accepted. This is the selling of the soul; the denial of who and what you are.
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