The Beginning

"Awakening" Oil on panel. 6" x 5"
by Cynthia Oliver 1998



So this is my beginning. An opportunity to meditate or focus on life and art. Particularly mine and on occasion, that of other's. It feels a bit self conscious, a bit egoist to do this in such a public, or potentially public way. It also feels vulnerable. I feel vulnerable, naked and fat. If I were naked and thin, I wouldn't mind being naked...But I want to be honest, and that won't be so simple when I know I have an audience. To be honest, I have to edit out the confabulations that make me think I look good. I'd like to look good, but looking that good isn't terribly interesting, and I want to be interesting.

This introspection stuff isn't going to be easy.

I want you to see in me, nothing but brilliance, wisdom... stability. And for you to be in awe of my creative soul - my creative accomplishments. But I am none of those things. At least not always or often. Sometimes I'm brilliant, or wise. Occasionally I'm stable, level, mature. I do have moments of creative industrious drive that gets me moving forward with good strong work that has a voice and says what needs saying. Then there are more frequent times when I'm none of those things. There are more days than not, that I walk into my studio with my coffee in hand (God forbid I should start my day without an entire pot of coffee), and I go directly to my computer and bring up a bulletin board chat room devoted to kiln formed glass art. It's a soul-sucking place. A time-sucking place, and a place I go so I don't have to think about the work I am not doing. It's a place I go so that I can talk with people who have the same fascination with warm glass forming that I have, to talk with folks who do the same kind of work that I do. Mostly I go there to avoid having to start the day. I also go there because there's frequently the opportunity to watch (and even to participate with) other people behaving badly.

Insecurity, jealousy and fear run rampant on this warm glass bulletin board. Weekly accusations of work being copied can start a thread that will go on and on for pages. The numbers of members online will increase and you just know they are watching the latest train wreck that was started over a discussion of politics, religion, Art vs. Craft, or copying.

I think we're tired of politics, so now the big topic is copying. I was accused of copying. I felt blindsided, it was hateful and malicious and I know now that it was about attention seeking and drama rather than copying...But at the time it was more drama and meanheartedness than I personally needed to have going on in my life. But I recovered.

Now I read the train-wrecks of threads for the amusement of seeing the usual suspects stir up drama at least on a weekly basis. It's beginning to feel more like Peyton Place with emoticons, than a bulletin board. It has become a fix where I can find out who's copying who (rather than who is sleeping with who), and who is waving about virtual threats of law suits and public shaming. Emotions run high as we debate ethics, politics and religion. Even discussions of books can create a brouhaha. It's an adrenaline rush, a stimulant, like my pot of coffee. I feel my blood pressure rise, the hair on my head prickle a bit, and I'm hepped up and hooked. I want to see who will be the next to be accused, who will be the next to be publicly shamed. It's a drug I take daily. A drug I use to get out of my own head.

In part, this blog is a new beginning for me to take me away from that time and soul sucking bulletin board, and into a bit of self awareness. Exposing this obsession I have with a virtual bulletin board community is embarrassing. I'm embarrassed that I am enmeshed in a virtual neighborhood and that I am affected by their opinions, their commentary, their accusations. But there you have it, the fat part of being naked. My life is not full enough of real entanglements and engagements to keep me connected to the real world, so I spend a great deal of time, trying to fill those holes in a virtual one.