Seasoned Awards

Listen to the essay here

The Oscars just aired on Sunday and those into the movie awards have been seeing results rolling in over the course of many months for various awards during this award season. I’ve always been intrigued by awards probably because they become a tangible mark of having accomplished something for the accumulation of a bullet point upon one’s C.V. I find I also have an equal part of me that is rather delusional when it comes to awards, as if I have always been in contention for the award even if just learning of it at the ceremony. “Call my name, call my name, call my name” chanting in my mind as I fix my face to a cool open look, relaxing my jaw, turning the far corners of my eyes up in a slight smile, as if I will be caught in true surprise if my name was in fact called. Maybe I just like time up on a stage near a podium, I don’t know, but these feelings of yearning for my name to be called started at a very young age.

I’m embarrassed to admit that it was further than I would like to say before I realized most people who are being awarded know that they are about to head up to the podium. Though years of socialization of team award banquets gave me the unexpected hope that my teammates maybe voted for something that really characterized me. And that I would be taking home a trophy or some other tangible evidence that I mattered. Smiling for a photo, pretending to be embarrassed for my name to be called, only actually thrilled by the attention for the briefest of moments, “call my name, call my name, call my name… please, please, please.”  My time in the sun was often over way too quickly. That weird phenomenon where time speeds up instead of slows down happens when my name is called; the whole thing over in seconds. If the awardee doesn’t know they are the recipient, there is at least the knowledge that one is nominated for the award. This is why I say during award seasons I become delusional. There is no way I could even win a book award (as someone who has never published a book - hello defunct manuscript withering on the vine as I type). And yet, at conferences when I used to attend such things, I would be at my table readying myself to go up to the podium just in case they called my name.

There is a small gift this delusional thinking provides the psyche that I’ve embraced, especially in this era of creative life-making. I am happy to offer these insights to you too in case you would also like to join in wishing you were the unlikely winner of an award you didn’t even know about until two minutes ago. This little piece of wisdom is: when you consider it is possible for you to win that award, and you recognize all the luck, chance, and factors beyond your control that contribute to the actual winner being chosen, then maybe, just maybe, you can try for it especially when it feels like a reach. I like to think about not taking myself out of the running by not even applying, which is effectively what you do each time you decide not to apply simply because you might not get it. Granted, there is a cost/benefit analysis to run in terms of your time, energy and effort, but if those factors line up and you find that you are an unlikely candidate for the win, but it’s not going to take too much time, energy or effort for you to try, then why not? You never know… they might just call your name.
 

As I’ve written about in my creative offering section, I set a rejection goal every year. For the past few years, including this one, my goal has been ten solid rejections. This means I track all the exhibitions I apply to, fellowships, grants, publications, even jobs get to be on the list. I’ve found this is a healthier way for me to navigate my rejections, a means of not taking it so personally when I’m not chosen. I’m trying to trust that the “no” I might receive is a sign that something else is coming my way. I try to think about the “yes” someone else received and cheer them on from afar. If feelings of jealousy emerge, I thank it for showing up, take some deep breaths and then try my best to let it go. Sometimes, this is easier said than done, but I am intrigued by my mind’s desire to mull over a rejection for much longer than it ever acknowledges a win. Probably because, as most others have also noted, even after a big win there is often a feeling of let down, like my life is not that much different. I’m not markedly happier, yeah, I got the thing, and now I have to do that thing, and so we march on. Just me?

And… I am also hitting five, maybe six, rejections before the end of the first quarter of the year, and that pace has been kind of rough on my ego. It turns out even for the seasoned rejectee, when the number of “no thank yous” far out number the numbers of “yes pleases,” that rejection goal can seem a bit intense. There are some things out in the ether on which I’m awaiting official notification but the more time that passes the more likely it is the universe is directing me to work on painting more, instead of chasing these other opportunities. I know, I know, I might be better off trying to attract instead of chasing, though I can always theorize there must be a bit of chasing for the attraction to even be possible. The striver in me wants to hit my goal, so I keep chasing, while also examining how I can open myself up to allowing things to flow toward me. The season of “we are sorry to inform you,” has inspired me to think a little bit differently about how I’ve been going about the achieving of my goal this year.

This has become even more important in the age of navigating my chronic illness conditions. I’ve been on a journey for an official diagnosis related to my ailments for quite some time now. And finally (hopefully) have a doctor that has given me some early evidence she is ready to fight for that with me. Now after each round of new/invasive tests instead of uttering “call my name” before opening up my results I chant, “show me something, give me something, anything…” to try to help make sense of my battles with fatigue and chronic pain. This vessel is its own mystery to make sense of, a book whose language I am still learning to read. Meanwhile, I’m also cultivating a healing journey in an attempt to be more comfortable with a nervous system not in constant distress, excavating my psychological traumas in hopes that it releases some of my stored physical pains, all while tending to the needs of my body as they unfold. Sadly it would appear as if there are no awards for this sort of thing. Only rewards in the form of calm, acceptance of the unknown, and a grieving process. That grief I’m recognizing tastes similarly to the disappointment of not winning an award. Like a meal on the same menu at a restaurant, each its own unique thing, but tied together by its chef under one roof. Perhaps again my delusions will come in handy here, in the way that I can pretend that one day this will all be different. I find I’m often wishing for the days of the past. But to be honest with myself, even in those days I was in physical pain, all of the time. I just refused to acknowledge it. Instead I pushed through it, pretended it didn’t exist or that I wasn’t affected by it. That way of being almost brought me to the brink. It absolutely, certainly took years off of my life. So now I am recognizing it’s time for me to call my own name. It is long past time for me to honor myself through the form of imaginary awards to me from me. So here I am, expressing gratitude for this opportunity to be nominated. I am beyond thrilled to be working on this lifetime achievement award. Delusions, seasoning, and all.

What I’m Reading

Simple Passion by Annie Ernaux,
(Translated by Tanya Leslie)

When I first grabbed this thin volume off the shelf at my favorite local public library I was actually expecting a collection of poetry given its size. When I dove into the first pages I was pleasantly surprised to find something difficult to describe. An autofiction account of a woman’s deep obsession with a married man with whom she was having an affair. The writing is enthralling as if the reader is deep in the simple passion with her, opting not to explain her passions, Ernaux simply wants to describe it as her form of sharing it with us. The book, a product in front of the reader, is spun from the experiences of her liaison, and I found myself wanting to savor the time with the book similarly to the way she savors the wait between times when she will see her lover again. As we get into such an intimate relationship with our narrator, I felt such a deep kinship in the kind of writing I strive to release — “Sometimes I wonder if the purpose of my writing is to find out whether other people have done or felt the same things or, if not, for them to consider experiencing such things as normal. Maybe I would also like them to live out these very emotions in turn, forgetting that they had once read about them somewhere” (50-51). I’ve been spending a lot of time with American pop culture that connects to France in some way after binging Emily in Paris over the holidays and a recent discovery of the very fun and very queer Love Trip Paris reality dating show (all episodes screening on Hulu now), and mourning my 40th birthday plans to be in Paris (that the pandemic sadly postponed)…so to have this translated work by a French woman in front of me reignited my own passions for life in surprising ways.

Creative Offerings

• I love how much attention Amalia Mesa-Bains' lifetime and art achievements are getting 
• Wondering if I can work a trip to Arkansas to see Yvette Mayorga's show
• Was researching feminist art curation feminist art criticism and was intrigued by this profile of Roberta Smith's feminist art criticism
• Did not think I'd ever be thinking about sexy + interior design but here I am
• I'm still mulling over this incredible poetic and railroad digital project that I think deserves your attention

Creative Ritual

I’ll be dropping off a recently completed quilted painting I’ve shared with you all - The Little Red Chair - to be exhibited as part of the M State Invitational in the Charles Beck Gallery on the M State Campus on Friday of this week. The show will be up March 20th through May 6th so go check it out locals. I’m excited to have work up at my alma mater - the place where my painting journey truly began! I’ve been busy making stuff in the studio, working on a studio portrait painting that has been fun, and just for me. I’ve also been hard at work on a lot of fabric/quilted elements going onto another painting I would love to have close to completed in the next twenty days lol. I say these things and then stress myself for no reason. Other than, it would be good to have it off my plate in addition to three oil painting commissions, before I leave for my residency. As with most things in life, paintings will be done when they want to be done; as long as I keep showing up for them. Otherwise, paintings are still up and on view on weekends at Calendula Gallery in St. Paul, MN. Please go check them out!

Questions to ponder

What award can you give yourself?
What lifetime achievement are you working toward?
How does it feel when your name is called?
How do you choose to navigate rejection? 

Thanks for journeying with me. I hope, as always, that you take what you need and leave the rest for someone else, or for another time. 

-KCF

PS: My shop remains open and as always, I invite you to become a contributing member of the community who funds the production of this newsletter with a one time or monthly donation. I appreciate you being here with me!