Where the hell were you when I was painting?

 I wonder if I can tattoo this one!  Do your own thing…it does not matter what they think.  I have submitted 2 artworks and they were both accepted, and now as I wait to deliver for the opening I stare at them and pick apart all of the things I did wrong or could be better. That low voice in the back of my mind that always haunts me, is getting a bit louder insisting… wanting to know…” who the hell do I think I am?” When I do not answer it immediately sees an opening to speak up and one by one clearly identify in detail everything wrong with the work.  I wonder why and in my mind,  scream back…where the hell were you when I was painting this…Why show up now?  Why did I think that was a good idea?  Who do you think you are?  That fear scares the bejesus out of me.  I so desperately want to keep moving forward, be relevant, and meaningful…I need this life to have meaning.  But when I am not strong enough, I just put the work in the back room and do not look at it!  That pisses off my critical voice and I do not have to hear it…at least not until delivery day!   Then I have to keep whispering to myself…no matter what, don’t stop doing what you love doing…

"Gone (Going)" Jack Johnson