Of course I wasn’t ever going to post during my stay in the US, because I was too busy doing it!
But now I am back, aspects of it come to me through the fog of tiredness, that prompt the writing.
I have just read my friend Stuart Mayes’ Blog with great interest. I have also come to realise that confidence is a learned state of being… and that it is indeed a complex state. I was also talking to another friend and fellow a-n blogger Kate Murdoch about the part that upbringing has to play in women of our age, from a working class background, and in my case also from a catholic background: Humility, Modesty, don’t show off… the blowing of one’s own trumpet is frowned upon. The result of this is that no matter what successes we have, we talk them down, for fear of being thought of as arrogant and proud.
This needs to stop. Because if I can’t get a sense of personal pride from having a 6 week long, 15 year retrospective in the US, and a solo show at the RBSA next month, where the hell else will it come from? (I refer you to the parable of the man in the flood, in Stuart’s post).
I recorded an interview with Debra Eck, the curator of the show in Jamestown, and practically the first words out of my mouth were about Imposter Syndrome… FFS Elena! Get a grip! We really don’t need to draw attention to these things. We can just say “Thanks! It’s a great opportunity!” But maybe talking about it, and the evolution of my practice over the last 15 years, will show me that I am not an imposter. I have worked hard to get there, and the work is worthy of note.
While I was there I did have several conversations with people who had been moved by the work:
A woman who used to work in child protection was visibly moved, hid behind a screen to blow her nose and compose herself… then after a while she spoke to me about the children she had seen, who still held the marks of their abusers.
Another who was the daughter of a British soldier who had fought alongside Americans in ww2
I had a very brief conversation with a student who just wanted to hide quietly in the shed for a while.
I was told the nine women were recognisable and relatable.
Another student told Deb that the wrapped twigs were just like sugar coating poverty…
I overheard a woman say to her friend that the day her divorce came through was like her own personal Fourth of July (referring to the text on one of my drawings.)
It is an honour to have made work that moves people. Not all artists can do that or say that. So I should be proud to be able to make those connections. I should be confident to move forward into my next solo show in May, with these thoughts to boost me, to tell me that I am in the right place, doing the right thing. No Imposter here.
