Sometimes the terror comes from an editing process out of my control; sometimes it’s in seeing a work executed by an entity I should trust, who comes highly recommended, whom others trust.
I once joined a band who’d just shot a music video. Eventually, it debuted at a party. I was unhappy with a key scene & worked very hard at trying to find a tactful way to critique it (tact was then a new concept to me). I was convincing & the volunteer videographer revisited the scene.
That was 2003. I have a copy, but still haven’t seen it, out of fear that I’ll be disappointed. There’s actually a pain in my chest right now, thinking about it.
Last week saw the delivery of a print job based on my work. I have full confidence in the entity that did the job, yet the terror is back. The strange thing is that, if I had been in town for the scheduled delivery, I’d’ve been there to see it.
But I wasn’t. And now it looms.
I’d planned to go up today to check it out, but kept finding little things to do instead.
Yet it’s no one’s job to reassure me. This is my problem; others’ reassurance will only be a crutch if I keep relying on gracious good reviews.
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A naval-gazing, TMI post-script: This is one of several banes of good art–of good work in general. The praise before printing was near-gushing, & the approval of others was like a high. It helps–or maybe it doesn’t–that I’m very happy with my design job. But now, upon delivery, there’s only the public announcement of its arrival. See, I signed the proofs, & my money wasn’t spent. So, is it fucked up that there’s a little voice in the back of my mind that wonders whether it doesn’t live up to expectations? Sorry for the rhetoric; this, too, is my problem, & mine alone. I need to get off my ass &, whatever the printed result, get it behind me.
Making art for the judgement of others is…
So. Much. Fun!