Musings of an Unmotivated Artist

I'm not really sure where I'm trying to go with my photography and poetry anymore. I've decided that I just don't have enough ambition or determination to make it to the top (wherever that is). I don't care about fame or fortune, which is a good thing, because I doubt that I'd have the skill to achieve either of them.

I have messed around with photography for several years now. I'm a fairly decent photographer. People say that they like my work. Maybe they're just being polite, or maybe they really do like it. But I think I've reached a point where I'm going to have to start investing a lot more money into my photography if I want to progress any more. Do I really want to do that? Is my photography even worth it?

I have toyed with the idea of trying to publish some poetry, but I don't think that I really have the guts to try. I'm fairly certain that it would be rejected by a publisher, and I don't have the money to self-publish. But maybe that's okay. I will always write poetry. It makes me happy, and I really don't care if other people read it, since I'm writing for myself.

For myself. That's the real reason why I do what I do. Purely selfish pleasure. But that means that I am also trying very hard to please myself, and that poses some difficulties. I am definitely my own harshest critic. Perfectionism tends to be the bane of my creative existence, sometimes making me want to give up entirely because I know that I will never be able to be one hundred per-cent satisfied with my own work. I have to keep reminding myself how terrible it would be if I achieved the perfection I crave. Think of it! Nothing left to strive for. I'd just sit there - plateaued, stuck, and bored out of my mind - to be worshiped by a thousand aspirants. What a dreadful existence!

But that leaves me with the question of exactly what I am aiming for. Trying to please other people with my work is stressful. Pleasing myself is impossible. I'm a bit lazy, and completely free of ambition. Maybe I should resign myself to the fact that my hobbies are just that - hobbies. Purposeless things I do in my spare time, for the simple reason that I find enjoyment in them. Maybe I should lay aside my incessant quest for some higher purpose or meaning, and be content to accept things as they are.