Slipping on ice and feelings of imposter syndrome
Richmond, much like most of the east coast, has been covered in ice after a big snow storm last week. Usually, this would be cause for celebration for me, but being in the south, it gives me a lot of anxiety. The cities down here just don't have the infrastructure to deal with snow and icy conditions like New England does, and so it makes the landscape into a treacherous, iced over, hell. Last Thursday, on my way to my car to run to the grocery store, I slipped on a thick layer of ice and "banana peeled" straight onto my back. If it hadn't knocked the wind out of me so much it would have been comical, or maybe if it had been a scene in a movie, where you know the actor is perfectly safe so its okay to laugh. Unfortunately, this was real life though. I was able to collect myself, make sure I had no horrible injuries, and continue on my journey to the grocery store. I got back and made a quick dinner, iced myself, and silently cursed the southern winters.
I then proceeded to take a good, roughly week long break from looking at screens while I healed, after reading about concussions, and deciding that I'd better play it safe and spend a good few days holed up in my cozy room reading books. I made a good amount of progress on Elliott Smith & the Big Nothing, a biography I somehow haven't read before despite my life long love of Elliott, and also made significant headway into the continued journey of Claire and Jamie Fraser in their misadventures through time and space. It was a really lovely week, despite feeling achy and sore for most of it, and I was fortunate enough to have understanding coworkers to help me through it. I still had to go to work, but they both understood and shouldered most of the heavy work so I could remain in the office most of the time, taking it easy and doing light tasks.
In Elliott Smith & the Big Nothing, I just read a bit about how right around the Either/Or and XO days, he had applied and was rejected to perform at SXSW, the major festival showcasing indie rock artists that takes place in Austin each spring. The fact that SXSW rejected Elliott Smith rang in my head for minutes, as I thought that sentiment clearly absurd. It kind of got me thinking deeply about the rejection that we, as musicians and artists, face constantly, from the world, and how important it is to simply not pay any attention to it. Yeah, it would be cool to get that opportunity, but without it, you'll be fine, and find a different path to go down. For Elliott, that path ended up leading him to Dreamworks Records, Good Will Hunting, and performing at the Grammys with a full orchestra. Despite all of this, I learned that he struggled with a constant case of imposter syndrome and depression (which I already garnered from his lyrics, and general brooding energy that he portrayed in interviews and the media).
"It was just like dark threats, of 'I have this thing that I really feel like I can't control. And I'm >keeping it at bay, I want you to know I might not be able to do this.' From what I understand–>after that tour we didn't see each other as frequently–that started to manifest itself as 'I don't >know if I'm going to be alive much longer'." (pg. 75, Elliott Smith the Big Nothing, Benjamin Nugent)
All of these feelings of imposter syndrome and depression seemed to be amplified to an extreme in Smith's life, perhaps because we know him today as having been this brilliant, dark, troubled singer-songwriter of indie rock lore, or perhaps because he generally struggled with mental health issues that he treated with drugs and alcohol, rather than therapy. Regardless, they are real feelings that I know we all, as creatives living in a late-stage capitalist society where we are forced to monetize our passions, all struggle with.
I'm trying very consciously now, more than ever, to break free of these rules I've placed upon myself for making work that is acceptable, or marketable. For years, I've held myself back. I sit on binders of negatives that I don't show anyone because I'm worried they're too personal, or not polished enough. I think about recording a song, but I don't do it, because I worry that someone else could probably do it better, and that I'm not cut out for this kind of work, even though I know I'm talented, and have an ear and an eye that I've been training and warming up since childhood, when I would spend hours drawing or practicing piano for my lessons.
I have many friends who have shared these feelings too, and a lot of them are currently already established as artists and musicians, and have albums recorded at beautiful studios, or have work exhibited in each corner of the country. I think its important to talk about these feelings with each other, and support each other, so that we can remember that we have to make our work for ourselves, not for the highest bidder or a label that has high stakes in us. None of that matters. It feels better to simply put out good work and look at it ourselves, with the hopes that maybe, just maybe, someone else will get something meaningful out of it, than it does to not create anything and sit in our rooms at home spiraling.