• The mind of an artist or the mad monkey inside.

    Recently an artist friend was expressing that she was having a very common feeling expressed not only by creative types but professionals of many walks and even parents in some cases. The Impostor syndrome, that dark little imp that saps the joy from efforts and awards telling us we aren't any good or that someone made a mistake giving us the accolade and it's only a matter of time before they drop the other shoe on our heads. The feeling that everyone else has their shit together while you're just flailing about or that people know way more than you.

    I've attended many conventions with this artist over the years and i've watched her art skills grow in leaps and bounds, we're both now "seasoned" professionals apparently. I told her that I too still go through this and I've just been awarded an Aritst Guest of Honor at an upcoming show I've been attending for 14 years.

    My deep dark secret...I never feel like I've accomplished as much artistic gravitas as my peers, there is a certain visual style that many of my contemporaries produce with epic painted landscapes rife with adventure and emotion that only someone without eyes would not want gracing the walls of their home. While I'll be setting up with my stuff in the 10' x 20' booth with weird little homonculi, visual slapstick, and eye puns galore.

    Then I do a bit of fact checking because my brain conveniently tends to forget all the cool stuff I've done artistically and how many people have said many kind words to me about my work and my sense of humor.

    It doesn't stop the little grey monkey in my head from poop targeting my self esteem but it messes his aim up.

    Self confidence in your ability to succeed is such a hard thing to juggle sometimes. There are people I'm sure that are unflagging in their abilities and position in this grand show but I posit that they are few and far between and that our minds generalize and normalize people we admire who happen to do amazing stuff as the status quo. They must obviously get up every day with hot and cold running awesome and unicorn bacon sammiches and thus we mere starstruck mortals with our pedantic "coffee" and "work" are utter failures because we're not sucking down mana with the gods. That's the monkey talking, the monkey doesn't hate you but it's not here to help either. It's noise, pay it as little mind as possible. And it's always ok to take a sounding now and then however you feel comfortable by asking friends or posting something for feedback. My fellow meat beings, unless people are hitting you with sticks or setting you on fire, they probably like you.

    The Beer: New Holland Dragon's Milk Cherry Choclate stout (duh.)

    This one was unusual in that it was delicious as I've come to expect Dragon's Milk BUT the cherry and choclate notes were really mild to me. The only reason I knew i had actually not been drinking regular Dragon's Milk was someone asked how the cherry was. I had to look at the label. Still delicious as Dragon's Milk with it's thick stout and bourbon wonder and it may be better for people that don't like alot of other flavors but just to have a hint of it.

    I give it 6 chewed dwarves lightly roasted.

All images copyright
Tony Steele and may
not be used without
permission.

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