I guess it’s no secret that I work myself pretty hard. I’ve produced more work in this one year than I have since leaving University in 2008, and have a small child in my almost full-time care. I also have relocated countries three times since her birth in 2010.
But I still compare myself to other people- I still feel like I don’t do enough- which is crazy because I do. But I don’t feel like I do, y’know? I always feel like I could do more. For example, this weekend I’ve only worked on my current painting for three hours (today), I only got half of two drawings done in the last few evenings, I still haven’t printed out and filled out forms for a painting competition I’ve suddenly decided to enter.
But I’ve worked on a painting for three hours, I’ve worked on two drawings, I’ve got most of the stuff done for the application. I’ve also taken my daughter for a few walks, cooked several meals, baked cupcakes and blended the absolute shit out or raw sugar to make pink buttermilk icing for said cupcakes AND I’ve even had some time to myself where I did well, nothing.
But she’s got a book published, or he got a grant, she’s doing a residency and is only 24, he’s represented by insert-famous-gallery-name-here, she won all that money, she’s having another baby. But this comparison/competition is ludicrous! It’s unhelpful and it’s had me by the balls since my early twenties. I know I’m not the only one who thinks like this, so I often wonder how much of it is influenced by my past experiences and how much of it is from my society.
I always felt a little competitive with someone in my life- usually a girl around my age- but it got a lot worse during my early twenties. A time when I was in a group, and a relationship, that were all marvelling at someone else. And I think I got stuck, because I wasn’t that someone else.
It took some time, but I got out of it. However some of the residual competitive crap has still got a hold of me. It clung to me for such a long time that I feel I didn’t appreciate what I had, what I did and who I was. And if I did, I didn’t appreciate it enough. Which makes me sad, I think I overlooked a lot of good opportunities and good friendships- I was too busy begging to be included with those that rejected me.
Recently it was said I didn’t like these people, and I guess my actions and my (bad) words did appear to be like that- anything to cover up being rejected.
No one likes rejection, it feels awful.
This comparison/ competitiveness has tainted me and it’s taken me years to understand this- how I came to think and feel this way about myself, but I’m glad I got here. I’m glad I can say power to those getting their books published, getting their grants, getting their residencies, getting their awards and having their babies! And power to me for doing those three hours, nearly finishing two drawings, having good Mum- daughter time and having these wonderful self realisation moments- then articulating it.
(The above image is taken with instagram- an app I’d use more if it wasn’t so crap. It’s of my latest painting, titled ‘Phia’.)


























