OK, I’ll admit it. I’m just flat out disappointed. And no, it’s not because (spoiler alert) someone told me that there is no Easter Bunny. Who then, covered our cul-de-sac in brightly colored plastic eggs, I’m just not sure… No, it’s because I feel like I’ve been ignored. No, it’s a fact, based on results, I was ignored.
Every weekend since our GCA (Gutfreund Cornett Art) show was installed in December, I would rush to check the Mercury News (silicon valley newspaper) to see if the arts and culture writer wrote about Beyond Borders. Not a mention in the last 3.5 months. I don’t get it. There were articles on murals around town, vintage signs and student protest art but nada on a ground-breaking social justice exhibition for this culturally bereft area but where issues of immigration loom large? And it’s not like the writer didn’t know about it – I emailed him nine (yep 9) times. And not to mention how many times I emailed art writers at KQED too…
I know I sound like I’m whinging (whining) and I’m usually sooo positive with lots of !!! But dangit, when you work so hard at something, you (I) want validation. So, what do you do when things don’t turn out how you wanted them to?
Imagine humming this tune “Pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and start all over again”. And maybe, now, I’m sort of laughing at myself and thought of one of my favorite writers, Mark Manson. Here’s a quote from his blog “9 Steps to Hating Yourself a Little Less”.
STEP 9: TAKE THE MOST IMPORTANT AMBITION OR FAILURE IN YOUR LIFE AND GO ASK A FOUR-YEAR-OLD WHAT THEY THINK ABOUT IT. They’ll likely giggle and ask you to pretend you’re a tree and play horsies with them. And their response will be totally appropriate and correct.
Plus, I know I can make a difference. Just last week I wrote a letter to the Mayor of San Jose and the Councilmembers in support of public art. I received an email from the Director of Public Art that “It is very likely, that without your input and encouragement, this would have gone the other way.” And to think, I almost didn’t write the email, thinking it wouldn’t be read or listened to, just another blah blah blah.
Now I think I’ll find a four-year-old to ask other pressing life questions, and just lighten up and enjoy this fine day!
