Self review

I like to think of myself as a particle, in a container of liquid, which after 35 years may have never risen to the top, but has never sunk to the bottom either. Or this could be insanity. Or some unresolved thing that I'm refusing to discuss with anyone because I'm unhealthily preoccupied with proving people wrong.

I have to examine my motives, I suppose. I meet up with old friends and they talk about how they've basically given up on becoming rock stars. I suppose that depends how narrow or wide your definition of "rock star" is. Some of the music I listen to is of course made by people who acquired too much wealth and recognition along the way for their own good. Other music I like equally well never really made any money at all, but at least has secured some kind of significant place in the grand scheme of things. Some of the "rock stars" in my eyes are people who don't even play music at all, like Bob Moog or Steve Wozniak. (I have limits, though; a soccer mom clipping Wal Mart coupons can't be a rock star.)

"Giving up" is alien to me. I may not outwardly show any enthusiasm or proactiveness at certain phases of my life, but I am always full of steam on the inside. My apparent retreat, or defeat, is more a form of self defense, like the possum who plays dead so no one will bother to kill it. Enthusiasm is too valuable to expose to those who, for whatever reason, are in the habit of draining other people's spirit. Why do I think people are out to do that? That's probably paranoid, but that's how I feel -- so how did I come to perceive things that way?

It is probably a simple fact of life that people without certain abilities are going to have some degree of hostility towards those with them. Conscious or otherwise. So it's probably really stupid and immature of me to be hurt by their indifference towards my work. Another good question is, how did I come to be so spoiled? Is it because I was showered with praise and "OMG U R SO TALENTED" all the while I was growing up? Why is it absolutely imperative that every so often someone must tell me something I did was "amazing" or "beautiful" or "brilliant"? I do get this every once in a while, and I don't think it's bullshit. Is it arrogant for me to not think it's bullshit?

My father's biggest concern for me was always that I would develop too huge of an ego. But he's a different kind of person in some ways. Neither of us want to be around other people a lot, but I enjoy getting some recognition where he would rather not get any attention at all. It's not that I want me to be the center of that attention, but rather the better quality work that I do. Anonymous is fine. Even posthumous is fine. I just want to know that I'm contributing something to the pool, and not just building a little bubble that will die with me.

And why is that important at all? Most people say "I'm not going to be here after I die, so why should I care?"

Back to the friends who "gave up". It's kind of depressing to hear, but what did they have in the first place? This will sound really harsh, but they don't have what I have. It's like people accusing pop stars of "selling out" when they never had any principles in the first place. Same thing, opposite end of the continuum.

Okay, so I didn't reach any life-changing insights in the course of writing this. I let the air out of the balloon and blew it right back up again. Fact is, I love my creative work. I want to have more time for it, or at the very least form better habits for devoting my free time to it -- and I want to bring it to the audience it deserves. Is that too much to ... I was going to say "hope for", but you can't sit around "hoping" for these things ...

I think we decide for ourselves what our commitment to our work is, and everything else flows from that somewhere below it on the hierarchy. Those who "give up" on anything were never really sold on it in the first place. And capital-S Success is internal. The fact that such an idea could be put on an inspirational calendar in some kind of Hallmark-y cursive font against a dramatic landscape, for the coupon-clipping soccer mom to smile blandly at and say "oh that is SO TRUE", is beside the point.

The fact is, "rock star" is a state of mind.