As I have said, not all the photos I took in NYC were great, but I kinda sorta liked some of the ones with blurry heads. You know what somebody said--focus is a bourgeois concept. I have worked on many pictures such as this one, and I will be posting them here from time to time. Because I can, I guess. I mean, I am the proprietor of this establishment.
But I made a mistake. No. . . I've made many. But I made one recently that gave me a start. It had me thinking, "What sort of tool have I become?" As I've confessed here, I keep a FauxBook page so that I can communicate with some photographers, and I have also gotten onto some of the photo forums. That is where I learned to make the dry glass plate ambrotypes. There are some enviable photos from time to time, and I like to see them. They inspire me.
That should have been good enough. Rather--and this is a hard confession to make--I posted some of my own photos on them. Oh, as I have reported, what fun it is when you are popular, when a photo begins to rack up the "likes." Of course, then you feel the need to participate in the site because you feel you must give "likes" back. I am not good at that. I am not good at any of it. I am blaming my Covid loneliness for it all. But there I was, doing a thing I have publicly despised for so long.
Then. . . this.
I was floored. My photo was deleted because I violated a Group Rule. Which one?
My photo was not good enough. WTF?!?!? It wasn't up to their "high standards"!
Jesus. . . I felt like a teenage girl. I felt bullied. I wanted to climb into the bathtub and slit my wrists. I'd been fooling myself too long, and now I was exposed. My photography is shit. I should take my blog down. Too much evidence of my hubris and lack of photographic acumen.
But. . . wait a minute. . . look at some of these other photographs on the site. What? Are they shitting me? THESE are of high quality? THESE meet their "high standards"?!?!? O.K., fuckers--put up your dukes. Let's get ready to rumble!
Yep. I thought all that. Not really. I am always on Team Bourdain, but not over this. But the power of social media became very evident to me that day, the Twin Peaks of Embarrassment and Rage.
I still like the photo. Whatever. Differences of opinion--that's what makes a horse race, or so they say.
And there ARE a lot of good photos on that forum. More than most. So. . . hat in hand. . . I'll keep looking. Maybe I'll learn something.
But Jesus. It's not like I sent a story to the New Yorker and got back a rejection slip. I mean. . . this is a fucking FaceBook page! It IS embarrassing.
I had the better idea when I was on Team Vivian Maier. Let them find me when I'm dead. In the meantime, I'll just keep making pictures.
Thank you for listening, Father. Hail Mary's. . . yes. . . I will.
I shouldn't have brought it up. I know how people are. Some will be secretly (or not so secretly) thrilled by this. "He needed to be taken down a couple pegs," they will think. "The boy has gotten too haughty." That's the way people are, I know. Yea. . . I'm like that often enough, too, of course. I have often thrilled at someone's defeat much more than I have at someone's victory. I can be a real prick, too.
But things like that just don't seem to matter as much any more. What people think or how they act are rarely of any importance to me now. I feel a negligible need for vengeance. Only here and there.
I didn't leave the house yesterday until it was time to have dinner with mother. And I didn't want to then. Is this a bad sign? I think it is a bad sign. I should want to be "out there," right? I just don't feel it right now. But please. . . don't call the hotline. I'll be fine.
Of course, I should probably end these confessions, too (though today's is pretty funny). I need to get out and find some stories. This navel gazing is not its own reward.
This is why Rule #1 for me has always been to make art to please myself. Enjoy the process. Disregard "the audience" because when you try to create for others you are caught in a trap. That rule about no "likes" is really a tough one and not one I would enforce on my own site for sure. Just posted about 10 months worth of work on my tumblr:
ReplyDeletehttps://anitanh.tumblr.com/archive/2021/10
Even with 120,900 followers, a lot of them were ignored. But for some strange reason this one has gone ballistic:
https://anitanh.tumblr.com/post/129572967535/found-in-the-internet-archive-by-anitanh
along with this one:
https://anitanh.tumblr.com/post/129572930490/found-in-the-internet-archive-by-anitanh
Both not original art by me, unfortunately. Maybe I should set myself a trap by painting only in blue and green??
WTF?!?!? 121K followers? You're like God!
DeleteI also should mention, if this is any consolation, that the day and time you post something has a lot to do with its popularity. Avoid Superbowl Sunday.
ReplyDeleteKid, it doesn't matter when I post. I will never be popular.
Delete
ReplyDeleteWell. I did chuckle about you being a “teenage girl.”
Me? I always sort of like when I post poems and people leave negative comments. We used to call it “Video Game Poems.” Whatever. Any comment is usually something to work with. But
You got cancelled due to “not good enough.” Oof.
I got banned from the site a few times. Back when it was fun and there were people who actually cared about the process of making something with words.
I was amongst a group who believed all words can be used to create a thing made of words. Including words people don’t like. I think “nigger” was the word that brought up much of the consternation.
I can’t exactly remember why I was shunned and punished for a week, now. Prolly I used a bad word.
Yay!!! More pictures.
😊
I've never found people's criticism to be of any use other than to them.
Delete"You know what I think?"
"I don't care what you think.'
Sloan Wilson used to live in the little hamlet where I resided, and he and his wife would have gatherings at his house for local arty types. They were both very kind and gracious to me. One night whilst we were in our six or seventh cups he leaned over and said to me: “Any person who writes for anything other than money is a goddamned idiot.”
ReplyDeleteLater conversations led to similar bits of counsel and this conclusion:
There are two reason to write:
1. For remuneration.
2. For yourself.
Any other reason for writing is goddamn idiocy.
This also applies to critics. They are not writing for you. They are not writing to enlighten anyone. They are writing either for the money or for themselves. During a period of black-listing in the theatre world. I worked as a newspaper critic and feature writer under a pseudonym. I didn’t do it to enlighten anyone. I was not trying to improve the art of either film, literature, or drama. I needed the money. People who have never worked in journalism do not understand the process, but word count and compression are almost as important as content. It makes you a better writer. It improves your style. Other than the money, I wrote criticism to improve my style. I did it for myself and would chuckle when I got a phrase just right. I honestly didn’t care if it would mangle the fee-fees of some hypersensitive artists or reader.
I learned an important lesson from that experience. It taught me to never read critics reviewing my work. They are not writing for me. I am not their intended audience. Maybe years later (five to ten at least) I might look at a review to read it for pleasure, but experience has taught me that it isn’t useful to my own work. Good reviews are the worst. They are the honey trap.
I have very good friends in the arts criticism and journalism business. I complement them on their work (I do read their critiques of other people’s work) and thank them when they cover something I have written.
There’s my two cents. If you are smart you will ignore it and do whatever the hell you want to do.
"Writing for me was a feat of self-preservation. If I did not write, I would die. So I did it. Obstinacy, not talent, saved my life". Phillip Roth (sent by Lisa)
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