Do not weep; do not wax indignant. Understand.
BARUCH SPINOZACarolyn, herself a gifted photographer, made a successful
but unhappy career as a photographer’s rep. Jean, who
yearned to write feature films, wrote minimovies in her
thirty-second commercial spots. Kelly, who wanted to be a
writer but feared taking her creativity seriously, made a
profitable career out of repping “really” creative people.
Shadow artists all, these women needed to place themselves
and their dreams stage center. They knew this, but didn’t
dare. They had been raised to the role of shadow artist and
would need to work consciously to dismantle it.
It takes a great deal of ego strength to say to a well-
meaning but domineering parent or a just plain domineering
one, “Wait a minute! I am too an artist!” The dreaded
response may come back, “How do you know?” And, of
course, the fledgling artist does not know. There is just this
dream, this feeling, this urge, this desire. There is seldom
any real proof, but the dream lives on.
As a rule of thumb, shadow artists judge themselves
harshly, beating themselves for years over the fact that they
have not acted on their dreams. This cruelty only reinforces
their status as shadow artists. Remember, it takes nurturing
to make an artist. Shadow artists did not receive sufficient
nurturing. They blame themselves for not acting fearlessly