Written by Courtney Snyder
“Criticize This.” What exactly does this title convey? Well, ….it depends. It depends, if when you read it, you heard the inflections of Audrey Hepburn or those of your favorite rap artist. It depends on how you feel about criticism, what you expect from me or how much MTV you’ve been watching.
When we lob our words, work, art or even ourselves into the universe, we really have no control over those on the receiving end. We can’t control their genetic makeup, their temperament, their past experiences or even if they've had their morning coffee.
I didn’t always know this. There was a time, I was certain that I could control how others felt about me. I was the person whose evaluations by supervisors always read: “Accepts criticism well.” The reason I was so good - I never wanted to read, “Has difficulty accepting criticism.” I couldn’t take it.
I’m not saying there’s nothing here to criticize. I have plenty of flaws, but I’ve yet to meet someone who can criticize me better than I can.
Creating art has helped me gain a healthier perspective. When people have asked me, “How do people respond to your art,” I tell them, “Well,…those who are into my art think its fabulous and those who aren’t into my art think it’s irrelevant or even, .... garbage.”
And that’s okay, because I don’t like all art. In fact I don’t like most art. I especially don’t like shockingly hostile art - you know the kind that points out how much anger, misery and pain there is in the world. Some people go gaga over it. To me it seems, so.... obvious. Injustice, greed, lack of compassion...yeah… I knew that. MY visual art, on the other hand, reflects a peace-loving humanity and perhaps for some …let’s just say it,…it's too challenging. Again,…that’s okay.
Writing my blog has been another process of letting go of fear of criticism. I’m sure there are tens of hundreds of thousands who enjoy reading my posts, while there are some who can’t decide, but follow along with a morbid curiosity. Then there are some who read it to confirm their belief that I’m a self-indulgent idiot and look forward to my grammatical errors. They might even say with a grumble, “Who the hell does she think she is…Just stop, lady …You’re torturing me.” And to them I say,..."You took the words right out of my mouth." But mostly I like what I write, so I just keep going.