To Quit or Not To Quit

What do you do when you feel life slipping you by?

Recently, I began a photography business with one of my closest friends. And more recently, I was put in my place when a couple of clients didn't like my work that I did for them.

When the 1st didn't like it, I just said, it's one person. Who cares? When the second didn't like the photographs, it felt like two tons of bricks I was suddenly trying to balance on my crushed shoulders.

What do I do? Obviously, because two people don't like it, I am never going to be liked by anybody. How can I be the lame appendage in this partnership? Why can't I be liked?

I became quite angry. How in the world could they not like what I poured my soul into?! They just don't understand the art.

So I sat back. Life passed me by. I was sad and angry. As I tried to figure out how to tell my business partner that I am very sorry but I can't and won't be the lame appendage holding her back.

I was going to quit. No one took me seriously anyway. Who in the world would believe that a 20 year old was passionate and serious and mature enough about photography to begin a business? Apparently, per these two customers, nobody in their right mind.

But quit I did not. For some (I thought insane) reason, I held on to what spindly threads of pride and patience I had and never said, "I quit," to my partner.

I had worked so hard to become who I was at that point. To be knocked down was not going to be knocked out.

Then, another of my friends said this to me,

"Don't worry about them not liking your work. That's what makes art so great. What one person may hate, the very next person may love! It's all about individual preferences. Don't put THEIR dislikes on your shoulders as you lacking at your work. Even though photography is always changing and growing and there's always new things to learn, know what you do is great and ever evolving."

Talk about earth shifting and breath taking. Is she seriously saying that them not liking my work is ok?! YES, SHE IS! And it is so true. They have a right not to like it. It's their opinion. Nothing personally against me. I am the one who views my work so personal.

No, they don't understand the art. If they did, they'd be photographers. But I can't hold that against them and I can't let that hold me back. All I can do is do my art, love what I do, and present it to them.

Then, nervously wait to see if they like it or not. And if they don't, throw off the bricks and move on never stopping to consider quitting.

My Vocal Cords Just Keep Vibrating...

Let us face the truth together.

I say exactly what I think exactly when I think it. Most of the time. (YES, there are occasionally times when I do NOT say exactly what I am thinking...even though I know you don't believe that...pahaha!)

And most of the time, I wouldn't say this telling-what-I-think is a bad thing.

But SOMETIMES, it is.

Sometimes, I'd like to throw myself into an isolated room until I learn to keep my vocal cords unvibrating (YES, I do KNOW unvibrating is not a word. But I guess it is now :). Or at least until I can't stand the silence anymore.

And some people would really love it if I would throw myself into the isolated room.

B-U-T I don't. I simply keep those vocal cords in great shape and exercise them every chance I get.

Sigh. Maybe one day...

We Lie

It took me a while to realize that goldfish, when they died, did not, in fact, swim back into the ocean via the toilet. They were just dead.

Now, before you label me as gullible, I never (as in since birth) believed in Santa Clause. Or the Easter Bunny. Or the--well, you get the point. I am not easy to trick. I am not dumb.

There are just some things that hit me (at profound and remarkable times) and strike me as surprising. Even though I might have KNOWN it, I had never REALIZED that I knew it.

And it wasn't until a few months ago that I REALIZED my dead goldfish just die. No swimming out to the ocean to rejoin their friends. They went into a septic tank to join millions of bacteria cells.

And so, when these profound and remarkable events hit me, I have a tendency to let whoever-is -standing-near-me know of my extreme insight. And they, well, they look at me like I have no brain at all. REALLY, they are just in awe that they, in their moments of insight, had never realized this either. But they PRETEND like I am dumb, and I remain with my mouth agape thinking, "WHY are they not finding this amazing?!"

So, my blog readers, I am here to tell you, goldfish do not swim back into the ocean once they die. Tragic, huh?

My reasoning for coming to this conclusion, however, was NOT that a goldfish of mine died. It was the following:

If Santa isn't true, and the Easter Bunny isn't true, and the Tooth Fairy isn't true, what else are we lying to our poor children about?

My answer:

Goldfish DON'T swim back to the ocean when they die and we put them in the toilet! A septic tank is on the other end of that flush! Gasp!

Seriously. They don't. And this makes me wonder. We lie to them about so many things (Santa, Easter Bunny, dead goldfish). And we are insanely surprised and angry when we catch them telling lies.

Um. Hello! We (adults) are not exactly taking home the cookie for "smartest in class".

Sponsored by the Tell Your Kid The Truth Campaign (for those who are still cookie-less, I made that campaign name up...)

So I sob....

Sometimes, all I can say in prayer is, "Dear God." That's it. I can pray no further than those simple words. My world is crashing, and I can't get anything but that out in front of a torrent of tears of frustration and cries of disgust.

Hiccupping my sobs and yelling anything but words. Just sounds. Sobs and sounds that could rend any sane person speechless.

I put off thinking about things. I hate crying in front of people, so I'm always alone when I decide to confront the mounting wave fixing to crash over me that I've tried so hard to run from.

I am frustrated beyond compare. I can't think past it anymore. I can't put off feeling anymore. I have to face it, and when I look at the big wave that is about to crash, I can only gasp and say, "Dear God," and then sob.

Sob because I can't do very much. Sob because I could change the world. Sob because I was right. Sob because I was so very wrong. I sob for all these things and so much more in a single moment.

It's like laundry. I let the issues pile up until they're a tsunami. Then, I actually wonder why it is I can't stop the sobbing before it ever starts.

(Now, I feel like I'm describing a depressed person. But I think if we were truthful, we've all sobbed at some point in our life.)

My point is, when I reach the end and can't cry anymore tears, more words come.

What are those words, you ask? "Forgive me."