One night this week, I had to speak in front a body of planning commissioners.  This is not unusual, but I knew that I had both supporters and detractors in the group, and it came at the end of an already-stressful ten-hour day.  But I prepared like crazy for it, as I always must do, and came with prepared notes.  I stepped in front of them and introduced myself, and started talking, without looking at my notes.  And then that thing happened- that thing, when I’m really prepared, when I’m speaking about something about which I’m an authority, when I care about the topic, and my notes dropped to the table in front of me and I told the story I was there to tell.  And the naysayers, who were shifting in their seats and looking anywhere but at me, became meaningless, and those who were curious or already engaged were completely with me, nodding, laughing, shaking their heads.  It was a short speech, but it was one of those fleeting moments of connecting to my audience that drove me to be a performer in the first place.

Also, I got to end my talk by saying, “Our elected officials in both Sacramento and D.C. have asked me to be an arts liaison for all of them, to keep them informed on local arts legislation, issues, events, and support for the arts in this region.  I’d like to make the same offer to you: look to me as your resources for research, trends, or information on policies or programs that can support the creative community here in your city.”  It was also my way of saying: our elected officials are fantastic arts supporters, better than many of our local politicos, and they are PAYING ATTENTION, so you ought to as well.  But I couldn’t say that outright.

So that felt fantastic.  And then today, I was working on a lengthy grant report, as well as reading a bunch of other grants for a panel next week… when the ugly, small, but loud group of naysayers- those who believe that they know better than I how to do my job, and who love to shoot slings and arrows but never to my face- found a way to get past my defenses and lob a cold water balloon directly at my heart.  It really put me through the loop for about an hour. It’s amazing that the more support we get, the more people who get behind us, and the more success we create, the angrier some people get.  It’s exhausting, and stupid, and in my worst moments, it makes me want to run away and fold clothes in some little boutique in a coastal town, hours or miles away.

But then I remind myself that all we can do is perform, and perform well.  That that kind of bullshit is going to happen if I’m going to actually do anything in this community.  And that if I work with integrity and transparency, the naysayers won’t have a leg to stand on.  But it still, frankly, sucks ass, and sometimes having to pick myself up, again and again, starts to really wear on me.

And now, it’s late on Thursday, and I’m slowly working through the 80- yes, 80- grants I have to read and score before Monday.  I’m sitting on a three-day, state-wide grants panel next week, and I’m really excited about it… but I’m also feeling utterly overwhelmed.  I only have 15 grants left to read, but the stack of them is next to me on the couch, taunting me with their thickness as my brain threatens to slowly ooze out of my ears.

I’m still yearning for that vacation- where I go somewhere entirely “other” and do nothing but see how deeply I can dig my toes into warm sand- but for whatever reason I’m reluctant to schedule it just yet.  I can barely see what next week looks like, so I just don’t feel ready to make any major plans.  Soon, though.  Soon.