Italian version here
I have a lot of artsy-fartsy friends. Most of them have a Facebook page where they promote their art, and invite their friends to give a like. Or they publish the link to their website. Or things like that. In other words, they look first of all for the attention of their friends. They put their art on Facebook, on Spotify, where the fuck you want, and then they tell everyone that their art is there, right there, look how beautiful it is, go and give a look.
I hide instead. I’m not joking. In case you haven’t got it yet, my name is not Stardust, I have a name and a surname and a great big face, and none of this is present neither on the blog nor on the Facebook page. On my Facebook profile, the personal one, there isn’t the smallest reference to my daily “artistic” activities. I’m trying to build up my public absolutely from zero. I do anything to avoid to speak with friends and acquaintances of my art. I lie. I hide them what I do. Only some of them, some particularly trustworthy friends, really know what I’m producing.
I recognize that this method isn’t particularly effective. It wouldn’t cost me anything to advertise myself a little and many of my friends, out of interest or pity, would give me some attention. But I don’t like the idea that the people who really know me know what I do. Art, want it or not, reveals something of yourself, and I am exhibit A in introversion. I’m shy. Often I feel ill-at-ease around people, I don’t know what to say, I don’t know how to not be taken for the weirdo of the day. I’m a social disaster who all in all manages to function, provided that he hides himself. I’m afraid that they may see my real face, that they may understand how I am and that consequently don’t want to stay with me. I don’t want that people know what goes through my head, all right? Maybe in part also because first of all I myself don’t like what goes through my head.
… So you write it publicly on a blog instead. Congrats, Starry Stardust.
No what am I saying. I’m an egocentric megalomaniac, of course I like what goes through my head. But I think I wouldn’t like my friends’ reactions. Besides, I’m hypercritical toward my art, and I set for myself very high standards (I don’t reach them, no worries). Exposing it to my acquaintances seems to me like gouging out my own entrails and slamming them on the table. And then, honestly, I prefer them to believe that I write well and do nice things rather than showing them the horror, the horror.
I know that, if my projects should come to realization, this sooner or later would happen. The entrails on the table I mean. Figuratively, I mean. Who knows me at last a little could easily trace me back. But, very cowardly, I’m trying to delay that moment as much as I can. Why precipitating the catastrophe when I don’t even know if the things I realize will ever have a proper following? Why forcing myself to an endless series of awkward conversations when probably this stuff will remain confined to this blog and forgotten in a short time? It looks to me like a considerable waist of energy.
So… I should just try to count on my congeniality, on charisma, and try to make the stuff I publish interesting for total strangers. Yeah, sure.
part 4 in the making…