It's easier to leave than to be left behind...

the title is an rem lyric...anyway...
per my therapists' request, i took along with me today four of my most recent paintings. this is a really big deal if you know me because i do not tend to allow others to view my work. let's just say, i'm not my biggest fan.
after pulling them out, my therapist says, ok, so what do they mean. and i thought about it..."uh, nothing really..." i said. and it hit me...that's pretty much true, or i've at least convinced myself of it. i went on to explain that my art doesn't start and stop with a specific purpose in mind, or some raw emotion i felt the need to get out, but that it's really more for the viewer to get whatever they want out of it.
ok, just a hint...wrong answer! never tell your therapist, the one that you pay to analyze you already, that your art is free for the assessment as well.
so she goes on to talk about the biggest of the four pieces, and explains how it makes her sad (as does everything in my life honestly) because it's so dark and there's this image of a door hidden within it, but that the darkness of it was depressing.
ok...so...yeah. there is actually something of resemblence of a door in the painting, but it only started out as that, and then got painted over so many times, and while it still shows through, it's not really that i meant anything by it. i didn't bother to tell her any of that, however, because the last thing i figured i needed was to hear about whether or not the door was opened or closed. she started down that road and i just kept her moving through the paintings.
after having gone through all four of them, and having to explain who rothko is, i was worn out. she sat there and gave me her evaluation on each one individually, and as i sat there once she was done, i realized that she had been fairly dead on with the first one. however, the other three she was way off...but i wasn't about to admit that there's any meaning behind anything i put out there.
and i'm still not. nope. dammit.
the rest of the session we talked about tons of other stuff...well, she did, i just sat there being all walled up and conveying some sense of control. then she said in response to some logical, unemotional answer i spouted off that i, "should just do math..." and it's then that i started to realize that i wasn't really paying much attention through most of the session. i was thinking about my art. not just painting, but photography, writing, drawing, painting...everything, and how i'm so absolutely afraid of putting myself out there for people to see. i don't want there to be meaning behind my work, because that makes it too real.
i started thinking about how everything i've done in photography over the past year has been so sterile. very little of what i've photographed has had any meaning. i think my photo I final was probably the one thing i've done that had any kind of emotion behind it. my paintings reveal more than my photography, and my writing even more so, and when it comes down to it, none are that great nor meaningful.
so what does all of this mean? i don't know. it means i'm really reconsidering my life at this point and where it's heading. i don't know that photography/art is really where i should be going. unless i want to just do sterile news photography for a paper/magazine somewhere, and, to me, that just defeats the purpose of having the degree.
anyway. uh...so yeah. i got interrupted and lost my train of thought, so i think i will just end this post now.
lost is on in an hour.
later.

-e