Validation is for Parking

Validation is for parking.

So simple, yet so wise. If you read my post about my experience prepping for and competing in Belly Dancer USA, then you heard me mention this phrase there.  As much as I might like to, I can’t take credit for this genius phrase.  I stumbled across this from Austin Kleon’s book Steal Like an Artist: 10 Things Nobody Told You About Being Creative. If you haven’t read it, I highly recommend it. It’s short and to the point. I got through it in a 1-hour lunch break. But man oh man, is it powerful.

Seeking validation is something I’ve consistently struggled with in my belly dance career. It’s in part, a holdover from the rest of my life, where if I’m being honest with myself, I also seek a lot of validation.  In my past I’ve consistently sought and received validation in the form of awards, money, jobs, promotions, and certifications.  In school, I was an honor roll student, captain of the gymnastics team, first chair in the orchestra, and swimming record holder.  In college, it turned into full-ride scholarships, international business competitions, and graduating magna cum laude. And it’s continued into my adult life with job promotions, raises, and professional designations.  Overall, it’s been a lot of running around checking accomplishments off a list. 

Additionally, I think the need to seek validation in belly dance has arisen for me more in this art form because belly dance doesn’t originate from American culture.  When I belly dance, I’m representing someone else’s culture and history.  A culture that I didn’t grow up in, don’t speak the language, and don’t fully understand the social nuances of.  I’ve certainly tried to lean as much as possible, but regardless of what knowledge I take in, it will never change the fact that I’m an American.  I fully respect other cultures, and as such, want to make sure that if I’m representing someone else’s, that I am doing so in a manner that is respectful and accurate.  However, at times I think this desire has gotten in my way of being my own dancer and allowing me the freedom to interpret belly dance in manner that is individualized and adapted to myself.  

Thus, I’ve spent a lot of my belly dance career seeking outside validation.  Wondering, am I doing it right? Does the audience like what I’m doing? What do the other professional dancers think of me? Am I good enough? Are they judging me?  Is my technique solid?  Maybe they are all bored?  Should I dance faster?  Smile more?  Maybe not so fast and not so much smiling?  Maybe if I just do X, followed by Y and finished up with Z I'll have it down? Or no, maybe I should do Z, then X, and Y? Or how about X, Y, and Z all together at the same time?

In other words, I’ve spent a lot of time worrying about what other people think and hoping to receive their validation.

But art isn’t black and white.  There isn’t right or wrong, regardless of those who try to insist their way is "right".  Yes, you do need to know the rules before you can break them.  But after you've learned the foundation, it's all an interpretation.  You can attempt to compare and categorize, but it’s so subjective that when it comes to art, no two people are going to come to the exact same conclusions all the time. So if you’re always worrying about what other people think you will never reach your full potential as an artist.  You will never own your own creative process.  You will never be truly authentic.  You will never birth the art that resonates with your inner being.  And you will never experience that elusive state of tarab.  You’ll instead spend your time being an imitation, chasing yourself in circles and second guessing your choices.  

I should know. I’ve been there.

Well, actually, I’m still working through it. Trying to find my own voice in this dance.  But hey, they say you “teach” what you most need to learn, right? Thus, this is where my current work resides: letting go of fear, fully opening myself to vulnerability, and allowing myself to speak my truth.

Pursue Your Passion

A few weeks ago I saw the Gauguin exhibit at the Seattle Art Museum. I was very much captivated by the exhibit, but it wasn't just the artwork. It was also the story behind the art. It was the tale of an artist's pursuit of a dream above all else. As a fellow artist, it was a tale that spoke to my heart.

Paul Gauguin was a stockbroker in Victorian-area Paris. Disillusioned with the corporate world and European civilization, he sailed for French-Polynesia in 1891 for an initial extended stay. By 1895, he left France again, this time never to return. Fascinated and intrigued by the exotic beauty and raw primitiveness of the native Polynesians and their land, Gauguin embarked on the pursuit that would consume the rest of his life: capturing his elusive paradise on canvas.  Thus he began his life's work as a legendary Post-Impressionist painter and master of bold, vibrant color.

Three of my favorite paintings from the exhibit are included below. However, I must say the conversion into pixels doesn't do them justice.

Les ancêtres de Tahamaha, 1893

Private collection, 1897

National Gallery of Art, Washington DC, 1898

Gauguin's actual experience in Polynesia didn't mirror the fantasy realm he captured in his paintings. His life was marred by a broken marriage, children in early graves, syphilis, alcoholism, and being an outcast in society. But then again, we don't follow our dreams because they promise us money and a comfortable life, do we? While occasionally those things are a by-product, the more common term we hear bandied about is "starving artist".

Gauguin died penniless at age 54. He painted because he had to.

What is it that you have to do? What does your heart tell you you must do when it's the dead of night and you finally allow yourself to listen? What feeds you? What nourishes your soul ? What do your organs and the marrow in your bones cry out for you to do?

Heed the longings of your heart. Pursue your passion.

Photo Credits: www.wikipedia.org