My Mistakes
How we handle them is what determines the preservation of our sanity.
The mistakes pictured are from a recent calligraphy job.
And that got me thinking.
I do not call myself a calligrapher. I am not that, I am not one. But, I am an Artist, who likes to use the art of beautiful writing and sometimes is able to benefit from practicing this art for other people to address their invitation envelopes, or adorn a loose watercolor rendering with a short poem.... a true calligrapher is very practiced, very focused on their art. They know quite a few lettering styles and use them regularly and without hesitation But, I like what I do as well because it is right for me, it is simple and fairly easy for me.
When I was younger, I shied away from referring to myself as an artist.
I did not go to school for Art. I felt there was no way for me to do this. Life. Was a mess. Being around artists was not a comfortable place for me. I felt stupid, and beneath being in their presence.
23 years ago I was looking for a job that would work with my real job as being Mother.
A job was posted in the paper for a local opening, reading the requirements it sounded as if I already had the tools. It was basically an equivalent to planning pages such as what I did while on Year Book staff in High School, with some basic artistic rendering which was right up my alley. I had to bring in a portfolio, and chose pieces of work that exhibited renderings and some compositional skill.
The job interview was just down the road. I was nervous, but arrived with high hopes and a good attitude.
Waiting for maybe 20 minutes, the candidate ahead of me emerged from the interview looking hip, carried herself well and was aglow from the compliments being bestowed upon her as she walked out the door. Her head was held high, and she looked down her beautiful nose at my already besieged form beginning to camouflage itself into the chair as she slung her leather bag over her shoulder the glance at me said... 'you may as well go home honey, I've got this!' My first mistake was allowing another person to have this effect over me.
I attempted to re-compose myself, and silently gave ME a pep talk as I was ushered into the office for the interview after a quick once over from the interviewer who looked over his glasses at me while perusing my undignified, not stylish or hip body up and down before I was invited to sit down before him. My second mistake was allowing this person to have this effect over me.
I kept my attitude positive, I was to the point, I stressed my strong attributes, while being careful to not lessen the importance of the project he had thought of. He asked for my portfolio, and I handed it over. He opened it, sat back with a quizzical look then began to rip it apart with his actions and words. I tried to stay strong, defended my choices, defended my work, my intelligence.This was for a layout and design job, a basic document style project. I had already designed more complex compositions with my calligraphy. What I lacked, and was coming to realize is the ATTITUDE that makes people say, WOW. I lacked the confidence that said, I AM AN ARTIST!
The man says to me, as he flipped my portfolio back to me; "I am sorry to have to tell you this, and am wondering why you would have thought you would ever qualify for something like this because what I am looking for is a TRUE artist, a REAL artist. What you have shown me here are scribbles, some of them look good but you do not qualify as an ARTIST. Good luck to you though, and I hope that you find employment with something that suits you".................................. My Third mistake was allowing a person to have SUCH an effect over me, that I would return home go to my bed, hide under the covers, cry, wish myself to be dead, cry till puking, cry some more.
What a dark and terrible period that was! BUT, I picked up the paintbrush again, despite what this man had branded me with. But always, always, I heard that voice in my head, "You, are not an artist." I worked for another person years later. I shared that I did artwork, calligraphy. She laughed at me. She said, you have not gone to college. How can you be an artist? I did not appreciate what she said at all. She implied that because of what I had NOT done, I was insignificant. BUT instead of ALLOWING her words to effect me as the words and actions of others had before I allowed her words to affect me. I created through jewelry, I created through my art, I created through my letters. I AM an Artist.
Do not let others put you down. Rise above and do your thing, do what makes you feel happy inside.
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