I have noticed how differently I hear my work when I share it with someone I know, all of a suddenly, the words become relatable to the other person’s inner self,
I have noticed how quickly I begin preparing explanations for the places where I fear they might recognize me too clearly, as though every honest line needs somewhere to hide,
I have noticed how a familiar face can make me feel safer and more exposed at once, because the person receiving my work already carries a version of me I cannot control,
I have noticed how I begin anticipating their judgment before they have even finished reading, but am I afraid they will recognize something in me I have not yet admitted aloud,
I have noticed how difficult it is to let something honest leave my hands without following it into the world to explain who I really am from the inside out…
I have noticed how a small reaction, like a raised eyebrow or careless remark, can linger in my memory long after the conversation ends, overshadowing everything else said,
I keep noticing how I search for the meaning behind a response, trying to decide whether it contains something useful or has simply touched the part of me that still feels unprotected,
I keep noticing a replay moment until the memory sounds more certain than it actually was, turning someone else’s reaction into an inescapable form of misunderstood judgment,
I keep noticing my work when I feel seen, but can I let the discomfort settle before deciding to change something before any judgement comes into place,
I keep noticing that a reaction can matter without becoming the final word on what I have made, I allow myself to sit with what was said before deciding whether it needs revision…
I have come to understand that people bring their own histories into whatever they encounter, and that what unsettles may be the very thing another recognizes as honest,
I have come to understand that a suggestion can contain a useful question even when the answer offered does not belong in my work, still, I can examine without accepting,
I have come to understand that it is not always mean I failed to communicate but, sometimes, people see different things when the work reaches a certain point,
I have come to understand that another person’s response can reveal something worth considering, but can I remain curious about what they see without making it a verdict,
I have come to understand that I can learn from another person’s eyes without surrendering the ones through which I first learned to see through my own mind…
I am learning to return to the work after the first sting has passed, when I can separate the part that touched a genuine weakness from the part that only touched my fear,
I am learning that I can question a choice without condemning the whole, change a detail without abandoning its original truth, and still leave a conversation without judgment,
I am learning that the work can belong to me without requiring everyone who encounters it to recognize what I recognize, distance from my intention does not erase the meaning,
I am learning to remain open to what another person may see, but can I allow their response to inform my judgment without deciding what my work is allowed to be,
I am learning that being seen does not require me to become someone else to be accepted, only to stand beside what I have made with enough honesty to let it speak for itself, and enough trust to remain my true self whatever the world sees…
Watchwords:
A familiar face, a different kind of exposure
A reaction is not the final word
Examine the question, not every solution
Disagreement is not always failure
Rooted enough to know my changes
Here is Tikatarot, who dares you to answer the question, “Who am I?”..
As and will always be reminding you to dream: