mysteriously drained of merit. It’s no longer worth the
trouble. To therapists, this surge of sudden disinterest (“It
doesn’t matter”) is a routine coping device employed to
deny pain and ward off vulnerability.
Adults who grew up in dysfunctional homes learn to use
this coping device very well. They call it detachment, but it
is actually a numbing out.
“He forgot my birthday. Oh, well, no big deal.”
A lifetime of this kind of experience, in which needs for
recognition are routinely dishonored, teaches a young child
that putting anything out for attention is a dangerous act.
“Dragging home the invisible bone” is how one
recovering artist characterized her vain search for an
achievement big enough to gain approval in her family of
origin. “No matter how big a deal it was, they never seemed
to take much notice. They always found something wrong
with it. All A’s and one B and that B got the attention.”
It is only natural that a young artist try to flag parental
attention by way of accomplishments—positive or negative.
Faced with indifference or rage, such youngsters soon learn
that no bone would really meet with parental approval.
Often we are wrongly shamed as creatives. From this
shaming we learn that we are wrong to create. Once we
learn this lesson, we forget it instantly. Buried under it
doesn’t matter, the shame lives on, waiting to attach itself to
our new efforts. The very act of attempting to make art
creates shame.
axel boer
(Axel Boer)
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