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  • Zola Marcelle

Failing.

Updated: 7 days ago

I am committed to my work. I care deeply about giving life to my ideas and I usually find that my financial resources go into the work I do. And I don't mind that.

Except I do.

The joy of my craft is ever-rewarding; it never ceases to rejuvenate my senses and fill me with euphoric, unfathomable joy. Surprisingly planning the logistics excites me just as much as delivering the art does. It may be that it satisfies the logical, left side of my brain in order for my right side to have full expression. From the birth of the idea in my mind right through to its performance I am in my element.

The problem comes when I have to present these complete ideas to the world at large. I find sometimes that my style of presentation may belong to a previous world that apparently continues to fade away day-by-day - a world that doesn't introduce itself with words but instead with its art. What I mean by that is that it has become part of our human existence for social media to filter the way we present our art. It's not enough for me to spend all my energy making the art, I need to muster up more strength to finesse the mechanics of algorithm and non-human data collection; number-based data, no less. And if I don't win at that, I potentially miss out on the last part of my cycle as an artist (sharing the feeling of the art) to synthetic humanity.

And it feels like failing. It feels like I have failed at my mission to be outstanding, even just to myself.

I have no doubt that other art-makers feel exactly the same way, and this is partly the purpose of this blog - to hopefully create a space where we can be painfully honest about our failings and misgivings in this nuanced world we've been chosen for.





Honesty at its scariest.

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