Dread

Tuesday, August 15, 2023

Three weeks… ONLY three weeks!

My gallery show is in only three weeks. I’m not prepared. Not mentally, not physically, not actually prepared for it. With each day that passes, the dread in my stomach grows. I am putting my emotions, my mental state, my heart and my soul on display (well only round 35 pieces of it) for all to see and judge. These paintings that I’ve done daily for the last 10 months are raw. I’ve poured every part of my in them. They’re not all pleasant, because I am rarely pleasant. A lot of them are a mess. They’re not what most would consider “beautiful” and they’re not supposed to be. Depression isn’t beautiful. Anxiety isn’t beautiful. ADHD isn’t beautiful.

My angst for this event is three fold. First, the reception event. I have such crippling social anxiety and to be in an emotionally raw and vulnerable state as complete strangers come in to judge my work… I feel sick just thinking about it. And did I mention strangers… as in people that I don’t know… like, a room of them. If I don’t run or pass out, it’ll be a miracle.

Second, sales (all pieces displayed must be for sale). Don’t get me wrong, it’s not really money that concerns me. No, the worry is that my art will be up for an entire month. While I’ve chosen pieces that, I believe, are fitting to the area and are more than reasonably priced, I would be devastated if not one person like anything enough to want it in their homes, office, whatever.

Third is that no one will show up. That I will sit there for two hours only to be surrounded by people I already know. Or worse, if someone does show up, just to glance and then turn around to leave. To not know it happened is one thing, but to watch someone do that… I’m going to need a lot of deep breaths.

I get it, abstract is purely subjective. My “normal” art isn’t really up for much interpretation. If I draw a person, it looks like that person. If I draw an object, it looks like that object. Realism doesn’t give a ton of wiggle room. If someone were to say that a piece didn’t look good, I’d say that they’re full of it. That isn’t meant as a brag or a boast, it’s just what it is. However, abstract is different. Everyone sees something different and that something can be seen as pleasing or repulsive. If all find my art repulsive, I am not sure I could ever show anything again. That may sound extreme, but that’s how my anxiety works. It takes a lot to put myself out there and once I do, if I am rejected, I will crawl back into my dark corner and will be come even harder to coax out.

Everyone surrounding me have all been very positive. Of course, it’s hard to take seriously when those people are friends, family, co-workers, etc. I take those opinions and optimism with a grain of salt. They could just be trying to calm me down and attempting to tamper down my growing anxiety. It’s hard to take those close to me seriously when they have a built in bias.

Of course, I keep running through the worst scenarios in my head, as well as the aftermath. If it does go horribly, then what? Do I give up? Do I go back to my realism? What will it mean for the plans I have? Will I ever have the courage to try something like this again? What in the hell am I going to do with the 300 paintings I have? Was I correct in thinking that I have no business doing abstracts? How will it affect my lifelong identity as an “artist”? Has everyone around me been lying the entire time?

Okay, now I’m nauseous.