Let’s look at the facts:
- I’m a pack rat. (It’s that Cancerian thing, again—I like to carry my house and all of my stuff with me. Wherever I go.)
- I’ve been writing/creating for a long time, as far back as my memory goes.
- All artists have egos. We have to or we wouldn’t be bold enough to take our ideas outside of our brains.
So why, why oh why, am I suddenly having a hard time letting go of my work. From that list above it seems like this should have been an issue all along. Why is this the first I’m hearing of this (from my innards)?
The infamous Kelly Diels said, “It’s like birthing a child and then giving it away.” At first I bristled at the intensity of that example, yet—while sending my work out into the world without you may not be quite so hellacious as giving up a child—my heart does feel broken.
I’ve written and sent copy to be used in a zillion places where I am not. And it’s never bothered me. So, again I ask, why now?
- The emotional investment of working on a project for two months?
- The connection with the mission of the client?
- The desire to see the work ‘up in lights’?
Yes, definitely, on the first two. But, it’s the third that is stabbing at me. The blood, sweat and tears have been shed. And in this case, seeing the result, realizing the fruition, having that YES! moment—aren’t only sorely missed…they also seem to be the final stretch of a long creative run.
And now, I feel unfinished. The work feels unfinished. Though perhaps only to me, perhaps it’s only something that a mother would know.
So—it’s not, in the end, that I ‘let go’ of the work (ah ha! that shock and confusion was unfounded!)—it’s that the work left me too soon.
It makes me feel like I’ve lost all control, like I’ve lost something, like I’ve simply lost.
Other people, whom I trust implicitly, are finishing the work (work, in fact, that we all had our hands in).
…still, I can’t help but wonder, if it wants its mommy.
Image credit: WestCoastCrafty