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recent
I really worry if I can ever get better at painting. Tonight was supposed to be nudie night, but, as so often happens, I was stuck at work until past 10. The fact that I feel pressure to improve quickly in the painting / sketching causes me to hate it (the work that is). But I really have to question the authenticity of that "hate", since when I finally did get home, did I paint? Nope, the first thing I did was turn on the computer and start playing with the really cool web-stuff I discovered today. It's sad that no one really sees it when you look at my site, but it's there... trust me.
Anyway, the point is, I feel like I am not satisfied with what I am doing, yet strangely I love it.
Why is it I never hear anyone voicing doubts about themselves and their career and their insecurities the way I am trying to? I was talking with Cherry last night about Benjamin Franklin's auto-biography, and we talked about how no matter how interesting it is, and how "great" he was, it is really hard to believe his auto-biography because he didn't say much about self-doubt. According to him he is just plain great.
I realized then what I have been trying to do on the bastishnet. Although I obviously don't write the inner most personal things, I try real hard to push the envelope of how personal I get, especially in things that make me look like an insecure looser. Although I don't notice it much without focusing, and it may not seem so "open" to anyone reading, but I look back a couple months ago, and realize that I was too scared to write half the things I write now.
Anyway, I forgot my point. But I think it started with an email I got form yet another reader who, for some unknown reason, find my site interesting even though I don't' know him and the site is only about ME.
Oh yeah!!! I remember now! I was going to talk about how good it feels to hear Tomoe's doubts and anxieties about her new job. Of course I feel for her and hope she doesn't feel too much anxiety and stress about how fast she picks it up, and if she is living up to the expectations, but on the other hand, I'm real glad to know that I'm not alone. I'm especially happy to be able to compare myself to someone of her caliber. Maybe only great people like us feel this anxiety. I know it's not true, but pretending makes me feel fuzzy.
galleries
