My life is what it is. Busy. Never enough time to do all the things I need to do let alone what I want to do. Working on the blog in the last hour of the day is a testament to all the things I complain about. But the upside is, I get to write, and someone wants my writing. I appreciate that, and never, ever take it for granted. It’s what I want to do. My dream.
Last night though, I was party to the dream of another artist. A duo, actually. Musicians. They’ve practiced quite a long time, worked hard, all with the hope of doing what I do – being able to show their art to a handful of people. Their chance came, and we all went down to support them. It was a nice gig, too. Fairly large nightclub, new, modern, great acoustics. An ideal situation for a musician.
So we sat through the first half of the performance, enjoying it. Of course, I’m a little prejudiced because these are my friends. But the audience seemed to be enjoying it too. And as my friends’ opening jitters gave way to the joy that comes from having your work appreciated, it was turning into a very nice evening.
Then the unthinkable happened. They were fired. In the middle of their evening, the manager told them to pack up and leave. Explanations were vague, people in the audience were surprised, even the servers in the bar were shocked. Then came the reasons, none of them making particular sense. There weren’t enough people in the bar to keep on paying them. They might close early because a storm was coming in. They were too loud. They weren’t loud enough. Truthfully, the reasons didn’t matter. Two people who’d put their heart out there for the enjoyment of others had just had their hearts broken. Let me tell you, it was a bummer. And I can say that from personal experience because I’ve had my writing rejected before. I know what it’s like to put everything you’ve got into your art only to be told it’s not good enough. It happens to all of us at one time or another, and it sure doesn’t feel good.
But we keep on doing it. Take the next chance and hope it goes our way. Keep our fingers crossed we don’t end up taking it on the chin or in the heart. Why? Because that’s who we are. No, we don’t like the punishment, don’t like facing the prospect that there will be those who don’t like what we do. The thing is, somebody out there will like us. That’s the reward, almost as much as the creative process we must subject ourselves to is also the reward. In other words, we take the bad with the good because the good is so very good when it happens.
The mark of the real artist, though, is someone who toughs it out and tries again after the rejection. I’ve always done that because I’m a writer and I have to write. My friends will be licking wounds for a little while, and wondering if they ever want to perform again. But they will. Next time a gig comes their way, they’ll be on top of it because that’s who they are, and it’s what they have to do.
So here’s to the artist and the life he or she lives. It doesn’t always turn out the way it should, but that’s OK because the best books we’ve ever read, the best paintings we’ve ever seen, the best music we’ve ever listened to has been written, painted or composed by someone, who like my friends, or me, has been rejected.
Now, it’s after midnight, and I didn’t sneak this in on the day it’s supposed to be posted. But that’s the life of an artist. Before I go, though, I have a book out this month. It’s titled P.S. You’re A Daddy, and it’s the first of two book I’ve set in one of my favorite states, Tennessee.
Until next time, wishing you health & happiness. Also, don’t forget to visit the Brenda Novak Auction for Diabetes Research, starting May 1. Check out my antique jewelry offerings. And bid! It’s a good cause. Website: http://brendanovak.auctionanything.com/