Something that I always keep coming back to is labels. I know that it’s important to me that I accept certain labels (from myself, for myself).
What are these labels, you ask?
Well, to name a few: artist, photographer, writer, poet, musician, singer, vocalist
I want to be able to use them for myself without scoffing.
I know exactly when I started rejecting these labels (I actually picked it up from someone else who was rejecting labels because they didn’t feel deserving of them, and because I thought that this person was actually much better at the craft than I was at the time, I internalised “well if they’re not even calling themselves a photographer, how can I?). And I applied the same reasoning to all others labels as well.
HOWEVER, there is only so much time and brainpower. It gets tedious to go through this dialog which almost always goes the same way.
Oh but how can I call myself an artist?
> Oh but you are an artist.
But I’ve never made any money out of my art or I don’t even know if any of my art is good!
> Yeah but that doesn’t matter.
So, obviously, there is a push and a pull here. There are two parts that are fighting with each other.
Maybe rejecting these labels served me a purpose AT SOME POINT OF TIME. Maybe I didn’t want to come across as overconfident, or cocky, or lacking self-awareness, etc etc. I was afraid of judgement, basically. But is it serving me at all anymore?
If I write -> I am a writer.
If I click pictures -> I am a photographer.
If I paint (sometimes) -> I am an artist.
If I write poetry (sometimes) -> I am a poet.
If I play or make music -> I am a musician.
This SHOULD feel true. This SHOULD feel enough. But why is it that it still doesn’t? I think it’ll take some practice.
Let’s look at some definitions:
noun: artist: a person who creates paintings or drawings as a profession or hobby.
noun: musician: a person who plays a musical instrument, especially as a profession, or is musically talented.
noun: writer: a person who has written something or who writes in a particular way.
You get the gist. I think it’s always the “especially as a profession” that I would hang on to as the main reason for rejecting all these labels.
Yesterday at a poetry slam somebody talked about the inherent insecurity of an artist. Obviously I really related to that and we talked about it at length, but couldn’t really come to a conclusion. I think over the last few years, enough people have given me the gift of putting these labels on me and while it always feels magical to hear someone call you a poet or a musician or an artist etc etc, I know that what I really really NEED is for me to give myself the same gift, again and again.
So okay, there is a clearly an inner-critic who is not ready to give this to me. Maybe I can think about the benefits of these labels, instead, then?
To be honest, the only benefits I can think of for now are just more efficient and optimal conversation, I do think second-guessing everything you say can get tiring for someone listening to you. And then that (ie more confidence, surity) allows for quicker connections with potential collaborators as well.
Maybe you’re thinking, how the fuck does this all matter? Call yourself whatever you want, just do the damn thing. But I’ve found that loopy dialogues like these are exactly what prevent me from doing the damn thing. If I’m thinking about this insecurity, then there’s a reason for it. I feel strongly about it, and I do feel a need to resolve it.
Maybe that’s enough. Maybe I don’t need 100 benefits to a thing to adopt it. It feels true, it feels resonant. I know I revel in labels like woman, queer, demisexual, ambivert, etc etc. So why is it that I feel so undeserving of these other labels?
I still don’t know. Ah, I don’t know if I got anywhere with this.
But I’ll end this with one more point to my inner critic: maybe it’s just realising that calling yourself a musician doesn’t mean that you’re implying that you’re a good musician. That is something you cannot decide. You’re passionate about these crafts and you’re also cognisant about the subjectivity of art, that is all there is, actually.
untitled atm 