I call it the Great Silence Maker, maker, maker, maker! Whoa! Did you hear that echo? Call it a fascination, addiction, appreciation or just a middle aged radio wanna-be fool dedicated to locating the invisible worlds an artist escapes to before, during and after the imagination has spoken.
There’s not a person in the world that doesn’t bump into a coworker, family or friend who used to be. A used to be! I used to be! I’ve been so many used to be’s that a Super Wal-Mart isn’t big enough to hold everything attempted once, twice or three times because it was funky fun.
My addiction, fascination, appreciation and wonder don’t sit in the extended arms of those who’ve made it but rather the individual that chose to stop. What did you hear? Maybe something flew out of the sky and landed on your shoulder shouting, “Stop! I said stop!”
Did another person convince you to bring your dreams to a screeching halt? I’ll never forget the heart doctor boldly stepping forward, “I know how much you love Tae Kwon Do. I understand the passion you’ve put into your studies and how you believe it saved your life. But in reality…your broken heart belongs to me and from this day forward we’re going to do what I suggest.” Mentally I’ve never been the same. It feels like my favorite Beatle has passed away again and again.
Here’s the thing…I ain’t the only used to be.
For several years I’ve blogged about the multitude of reasons we’ve chosen as to why we quit, turned a page, came to Y in the road or elected to pull off the highway and not recharge the batteries. Not only have I heard it all but used the very excuses to bring silence to a part of my life that once brought incredible amounts of peace as well as joy.
First…let me clearly state we're all artists; bankers, bakers, painters, wood cutters, musicians, writers, doctors, coffee blenders, sales reps…everything we do is art.
One of the biggest artist killers is allowing others to hold the rights to bringing judgment to your final presentation. Nothing silences me faster than a passerby commenting about the mood I must have been in while painting, “Oh I see there is darkness in this piece. You must have been sad, depressed or feeling a need to hide.”
Allowing someone to talk you into a mood you probably weren’t in is a dangerous place to dry your art.
I physically have no problem looking at the gawkers and softly saying, “Bite my butt.” This might explain why none of my art is currently hanging in galleries. The very second you stop sharing your visions the universe sees it as reason to hand the gift to someone who finds enjoyment in taking it to a different level of performance.
So I ask, “Who currently owns my style? Will I ever get it back?”
Painting black tulips doesn’t mean you’re a bad parent or the job market is overshadowing your poisoned loyalty of supporting a working nation. Bright yellow cupcakes are the farthest thing from happiness on crack. Cranking up a car and letting it shove gassed up pistons into the soul of NASCAR fanatics doesn’t necessarily mean you’re a speed junky upset with the last ticket a peaceful police officer intelligently handed to you on an assumed out of tune morning.
Bald headed men with endless amounts of connected tattoos are book covers judged heavily by Corporate America. Vibrantly dressed Lady GaGa clones that once followed Madonna don’t stand a chance to land a decision maker’s position inside a theme park’s head office. It freaks me out to report that the 80’s flick series Revenge of the Nerds truly was a documentary based on the way the world was about to become! Nerds are holding down the best paying jobs while the rest of us who were taught to be ourselves are silenced by the art we trusted. Wait... I take that back. Being a Nerd is an art form too.
So what's the problem?
Having passion means nothing in today’s modern market because those who still hold it have chosen not to share what little is left fearing once its gone they’ll instantly be branded a used to be. Showcasing loyalty, determination and a zillion plus two ideas that could lift a company back to positive dollar amounts means nothing because those in control have invested so much money in research that visionary performers are instantly labeled outcasts and are treated like grey cubical gnomes that are told to stay planted in the companies policy or find a way to nearest exist.
We used to be… If we don't change you'll be stuck telling your grandchildren how great this country used to be.
Do something about it. It’s time to find enough steam in your shorts and re-invent the thong. The day has arrived to stand up and make a lot of noise calling the effort the last great hurrah! Pick up your puzzle pieces scattered about this worldly world shove that finger high into the air that tells everyone that you are still number one! Stop letting people stare into the corners of your art and locating another reason to set it aside.
I will always believe in you first…
arroecollins@clearchannel.com
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