I shipped 56 small paintings in a FedEx box to a local gallery in my hometown. At the opening reception, my sister noticed the aforementioned tape faux pas on one of the pieces and I offered her an insufficient rebuttal. Last night I had an awful dream in which Jenna gave me the toughest critique of my life. That critique ignited a shouting match and I felt more rage than one should ever feel when discussing tiny paintings. What does this mean? Well, I'm sensitive about my stuff. I was salty that Jenna saw a flaw in my craft that I couldn't defend. I'm insecure about this new direction I'm taking with my work. That nightmare was an indicator of all those things. Now what? I need to tighten up my craft, even for paintings that are meant to be crude. I love this new body of work, so I need to worry less about what everyone else thinks of it.
And to sum up this little cursory dream analysis, I'm grateful that this is my reality. One of my major stressors in life comes from people objectively responding to something that I've made; [because I'm privileged enough to claim that as a profession.] My response to why that tape wasn't completely parallel to the surface of the canvas was wordy and meandering. My unconscious mind is feeling the brunt of Jenna's astute, albeit unexpected, observation. Nice catch, mug!! Nice catch.
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