Maria-Thérèse Sommar, fotograf, frilansskribent och författare.
Ej körkortsfoto! Ej fotostudio.
No ID / passport photos. No studio.

Friday, September 5, 2008

Oh but it’s so DIFFICULT!

I’ve been pondering the subject of negative thinking. Pondering, not indulging in it myself. Is it just me, or is creativity often met in a negative way? That is, if you dare take your creativity to any kind of professional level and not just engage in it on your own, never showing your work to anyone?

Breathe one word about writing a book or selling your designs and you’re bound to hear dissuading voices telling you how horribly difficult it all will be.


But more importantly: So what?

When it comes to my starting a business, most people have no idea how much I’ve longed for challenges in my life. People ask what I’m doing at the moment, I reply, some are excited and others go straight into ”oh but that sounds so difficult” mode, as if expressing an instant opinion is even necessary. I replied to a question; I didn’t ask for advice.

Regardless of that, to me it seems naïve to be overly cautious, to simply assume that things will be difficult and – as a result – to never even try. One thing I’ve found is that if you do try and try again and learn and improve your skills you will, in fact, succeed.

I’ve been wondering where all this comes from, the instant negativity I sometimes see in other people. Is it fear? Concern? Jealousy? The result of being unsatisfied with something about their own lives? Does ”work” have to imply boredom and necessity whereas enjoyable activities should be done in one’s spare time? I simply do not get it. Then again I’ve always enjoyed working.

If people didn’t follow their dreams there would be no books, no music, barely any clothes to wear, no airplanes or cars or medicine or the Sistine Chapel or pianos or cameras or songs. Singing is a job, too. Writing is a job, too.

Dreams are not to be taken lightly. To me, dreams are the foundation of reality.

I can’t even count the goals I’ve already dreamed up for myself – and achieved. My education, all my travels, my writing a letter at the age of 12 to a world-famous singer and guess what - we became friends. For every negative thought I run across I become even more Mary-Poppins-Peter-Pan-think-happy-thoughts unbearably positively convinced.

Perhaps I’m the one who’s wrong; perhaps there is something missing in me?
An impossibility gene?
If so, I am very, very grateful to have such a flaw.
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