Gary ~ May 31

 

Portrait of the Artist as an Old Man

 

"...the artist can fashion a beautiful thing; and if he does not do it solely for his own pleasure, he is not an artist at all."  - Oscar Wilde

 

 

I've come a long way, baby, or at least I think I have anyway.  From the March Minuet (was that what it was called?) to the May Mazurka, I think I have been transformed into a real artist, at least from Oscar Wilde's perspective anyway.

 

In March, I was new to the 30-Day writing workshop game.  I was young, artistically speaking, and eager for applause and hot to please my audience.  I succeeded in gaining some kudos and some enthusiastic thumbs up and it went straight to my head.  I soon found myself crafting my pieces to appeal to my new audience and eagerly waited for the returns to come in.  The rave reviews, or at least good reviews, came pouring in and I was riding high and mighty and ready to go out and conquer the writing world, not knowing I was a second-rate Don Quixote at best.

 

It was a trap. While I was elated by the good reviews and enthusiastic comments, my mood would plunge on days when my submission only garnered one comment, even if it was very complimentary one. Though I am certainly no Buddhist, nevertheless I know full well just how "evil" and destructive attachment can be.

 

I fell into a trap that I never want to fall into ever again: the snare of attachment to, and dependence upon,  other people's opinions, judgements, preferences, and biases.  This is the road to perdition if there ever was one, imo.

 

March was a very heady month for writing, and I came away feeling that I scored well and made a good impression on the 30 day group, but I didn't realize that I was setting myself up for a fall.

 

And I'm glad it came in May and not in December or next January.  The May Mazurka has been a real wake up call for me and now I think I am on my way to becoming the artist of Oscar Wilde's dreams.

 

My recent 5 minute stand up comedy routine at Open Mic Night at the Phoenicia Playhouse is a good illustration of what I am talking about, and highlights the very point I am trying to drive home.

 

I leaped up on the stage when my name was called and wanted to KILL, just like all comedians want to slay the audience and leaving them "rolling in the aisles" and wanting more.  But fortunately for me, I realized within the first two minutes or so that I wasn't attached to it.

 

I think my routine was mediocre at best, and certainly didn't knock anybody out and was received with polite applause at best.  I got not one big laugh and logged perhaps 2 or 3 snickers.

 

But the good news, while I was up there, was that it really didn't matter how my shtick landed with the audience because I knew that I wanted and needed that experience, no matter how it played out.

 

It was the experience of  getting up there before a strange audience that was the main thing, and not how my performance was received.  I felt I took a big step forward that night on my journey to true artistry, in the Wildean sense at least.

 

It's the same with the May Mazurka.  I no longer submit my piece and then eagerly look for kudos and applause. If they should come, that's great, but I am not in the least dependent on rave reviews to enhance my sense of fundamental well-being, or my self-esteem and feelings of self-worth.  I don't need approval and encouragement to be a real artist.

 

What I do is now mainly  for my own enjoyment, my own satisfaction, and that is the main thing and my #1 concern.  How my writing or my comedy act lands with others is out of my control, so I can't really get too worked up about one way or another.

 

The main thing is to forge ahead, without attachment or clinging or striving to please any particular person or persons.

 

Now that the May Mazurka draws to a close I am definitely looking forward to the July Jungle Boogie, if that's what it will be called.

 

No matter what it's called I think I'll be an even better artist by then.