Saoirse Alone

Blog for my online art gallery http://www.freewebs.com/saoirsealone

Thursday, June 22, 2006

'rejection'

Now I have the word for what I am feeling ... it is "rejection", and I'm tired of it.

Tired of reaching out, tired of trying, tired of being rejected again as yet another person realizes that I'm not who he/she thinks I am or wants me to be .... tired of expectations and not meeting them, tired of having to live in society and deal with people because I'm married and have young children, and I can't be a recluse avoiding everyone because I can't do that to my family.

So instead I live with this pain, I live with this frequent experience of rejection, and then I create "disturbing" art that makes people uncomfortable and want to change 'me', but expressing that feeling is the only way I can release it and move on with my life.

But people don't want to see the feelings that they secretly feel responsible for, so they attack the artist and don't look within themselves to learn from their experiences .... we just speak the feelings and experiences created from how people treat each other, nothing more.

quote

"They say that sanity is always determined in relationship to societal norms. And it's those people who can adjust to the insanity of the world -- even who accept the insanity and the sickness of the world -- who are called sane. Should we artists align ourselves with the sane, or shall we take a chance, and walk with our pain, or the pain of others -- in order to tell their stories perhaps -- to let them know that someone understands? To let them know that someone could imagine it, that someone could imagine what it would be like to look "wrong" when you have such sweetness and beauty inside, or even the opposite, that you look "right" on the outside and have such dissonance and even torment on the inside?

I am suggesting that you see your pain with its integrity. I am not saying that you should accept it, or dwell or indulge in it; I am saying you should see it, just as you see the sunrise or sunset. Your pain can be a source, like the color blue, or orange, for that matter. It can be one of your colors; it can be a tool."

- Anna Deavere Smith, "letters to a young artist"

The Wanderer

I had a dream that my image turned to tan (my color for 'nothingness') and that I was in the desert, with nothing around me in all directions but land and horizon. And a brilliant sunset (sunrise?) loomed in the distance with all colors building the skyline.

Often I have dreamed of having so little that I could just take myself to anywhere in the world, set myself down, and start over from there, as if I had never left wherever I happened to be. That money did not exist and people did not box up in houses, that we could plant ourselves anywhere and experience life and living wherever we found ourselves to be.

This is a strange comfort for me ... no attachments and nothing holding me back, no people misunderstanding my intentions, no one making assumptions about me or feeling things about me that aren't true, no one trying to mold me to their image of what a good woman, daughter, wife, mother should be .... to leave everything behind by having nothing to hold onto but myself and Creator .... and all of Earth Mother being "home" for a wanderer who is deeply lonely and desperately tired, but doesn't like fences, rules or boundaries. And I've never had a good understanding of social etiquette, I "read" people Sso I can survive in society, but I never seem to understand most people all that well, in interactions, relationships .... often I give up trying to 'fit in', then I am called a recluse or a hermit.

I never claimed to be an easy person to get along with (I'm not), but people wonder why I am so quiet in person. (When I open my mouth, I tend to stick my leg in it, not just a foot.)

I think there would be more comfort in the desolation of a desert, than in the company of people and 'civilization'.

Earth Mother's children (non-human) have never asked me to be anything but myself, we've always gotten along very well, and I feel we always will.