Fighting The Troll Within

by Greg Vineyard

Trolls in the movies are fun, with their attack-you-from-under-the-bridge lifestyle, keeping it interesting for characters like Willow and Madmartigan.

But in real life, there is a reason we’ve nicknamed those who constantly tear others down: it’s because Trolls are mean! The modern version of that bridge is social media; however, we also encounter some form of these monsters deep down within ourselves, too.

In a recent on-line discussion about how artists are potentially being edged-out of gentrifying areas, a stranger who appeared to be part of a successful gallery scene in another state commented something like: “just because someone puts paint to canvas, it doesn’t make them an artist.”

More than tinged with bias, this dismissal of huge swaths of people who contribute in large ways to their local economies with his simplistic comment demeaning their skills is all too common. Not only do statements like this miss the mark, they contribute to the fostering of our own Internal Trolls.

While there are of course distinctions between professional and amateur artists (and crafters, and hobbyists, and on and on – that’s another column for another day!), harshly indicating that artists or art groups are only worthy of taking up space under high-end commercially viable conditions is short-sighted, both on a personal level as well as in the sphere of business.

I’m reminded of my journey back into the ceramic arts as a “Non-Traditional Age” student in the schools and clay centers of Southern California in the 1990’s. The Trolls of Times Gone By can rear their ugly heads, gurgling up simple but powerful phrases like: “You can’t do this.”

Many remember exactly when and where they were, what they were working on, and who said it, when they were told by a Troll casting its shadow across their little work table: “You’re not good at art.” It happens in other skill areas, too, but in the arts, it becomes a life-long battle about worthiness.

For many, it can take years to work up the nerve to give something another shot. I remember this woman in a ceramics class at a clay center in Monrovia, CA, where, after the weekly kiln unloading, she looked a bit forlorn. Both her colorful work and her sad expression caught my eye, and I walked over and asked her how she felt about her results. Her Inner Ogre had taken over, and she replied that her work was just no good compared to everyone else.

She recalled exactly when she was told she couldn’t do this – FORTY YEARS EARLIER. Believing she wasn’t good enough, becoming timid and self-effacingly comparative as she moved through life, she waited. Many of us that day conveyed how much we liked her work, and the studio became her oasis. We saw ourselves in her. We often take turns helping each other through these battles, changing our psyches one incident at a time, reminding ourselves that it’s not just the skills we value, but also the activities themselves.

In many regions with vital arts and crafts scenes, many commercially successful artists and non-artists alike connect with and support the community, regardless of how people label themselves regarding professional status. Wouldn’t it be amazing if everyone’s first instinct was to do that, nurturing the dreams of their colleagues, knowing that the rewards of an activity are sometimes measurable on a spreadsheet, sometimes not; yet all are valuable, nonetheless. No one deserves Trolling; but it can happen, and we must remain vigilant.

I say let’s counteract the snobby, broad brush-bearing goblins that spring forth to dismiss the collective lot through their pens and keyboards – and internally through our memories. Some of the best ways to stave them off are to keep showing up every day for one’s art or craft or job, and to continually strive to grow in one’s chosen area of focus.

Sometimes we can’t fight the whole army, but we can slap back a Troll Within or two by simply saying: “This is who I am. This is what I do.”