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Show pg 7 had a new sense of confidence. It was only a day later that the panic and fear struck. What was I thinking? Did I not know that I had a family to take care of? Did I not know that I had a steady income that was providing a lifestyle that others would desire? Was this not enough? Why does this happen? How is it that we can have moments of jubilation when we catch a glimpse of what we can become, only seconds later to develop a horrific fear that what we can become is not possible? This question sparked an interest in a topic I wanted to explore during my time in the master's program. I wanted to know if mind fakes, Psychosocial mumbo-jumbo, and the ability to empower myself, and maybe even others, would allow a shift to an ideal state, or a new narrative of self. For me, becoming an artist was my ideal state. As such, my first thesis idea was this: can one fake out their mind to overcome false self-perceptions to arrive at their ideal state? Put on a new mask and become that thing? At that point in the program, which was during my first year, I began making masks for two reasons: One, to explore this thesis idea; and two, because even though I wanted to avoid being influenced by others' expectations, I found myself vulnerable to wanting to do what other people liked in my work--my costumes. In fact, a film student loved one of the masks I made before the program so much, he featured it in a video to highlight the Art and Art History program. I became an overnight sensation, known in the halls as The Mask Guy. I listened to the Whisperer, and I followed the whisper. I began living life rather than acting it. The validation I received was not because I was climbing the prescribed ladder for success. This was genuine. It was for my work. It was for me. Even so, there was a constant unknown that kept nagging me. How had I gotten accepted into the MFA program? Why was I even there? I was like a scared little schoolboy who really had no idea what hell he was doing in the world of academia. I was accepted into the MFA program, and felt that I should have known what type of art I wanted to produce. In reality, I had no clue. The Whisperer had gotten me this far, so I thought his next move would be to unfold a road map, showing me the direction to take my art. This never happened, and I was left to figure it out on my own. Instead of being patient and pursuing a direction that felt true to my own art, I found myself (by my own doing) trapped. Again. I found myself making more masks. Masks for validation. I am an addict. Remember? |
