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Primping, Pimping, Pushing, Preening 

Amid the Modern Panoply

Pieter Bruegel the Elder, Engraving (1558): The Seven Vices -- "Pride"

Promotion of one's person, whether for professional or private advantage, has always struck me as bullish, tacky, even a tad desperate.  However, unless armed with a dedicated manager/spokesman in your corner, or furnished with a supportive cloth of friends to rally as fans, campaigning is a necessary component of selling your "brand".  With gaining potency and effectiveness, the internet makes it entirely possible to achieve a respectable level of awareness in your pursued field without wandering terribly far into the sticky morass of direct human contact.  Facebook, Myspace, Twitter, Pinterest, Instagram, Vimeo, YouTube, Funny or Die, HelloGiggles, hitRECord, Tumblr, Blogger, Squarespace, OkCupid, Match.com, Zoosk, eHarmony, Linked In, IMDB, ActorsAccess, Backstage, Wix, eBay, Etsy -- together these represent a partial spectrum of sites available for the purpose of establishing an online identity, all at minimal impact to your checkbook.  It is the time commitment required that is the sorest expense (besides, you know, actually having to work towards an identity or product that then might be commodified).  Building yourself up and taking ownership of what you represent helps distinguish your body (of work or otherwise) from the ether.  If you don't demonstrate and champion your gifts, who will?  Vanity is not necessarily at play, but rather confidence.  (The alternative might be that you are merely tolerated as an obligatory connection, granting you a few dozen followers on social media from a stale pool of kin and colleagues.  Generally speaking, that is not enough of a network to support whatever you're hoping to circulate.)  Simply put, positive awareness is established through concerted effort.  You need to actively mold your brand.  Otherwise, eyes might stumble upon your story before you are prepared to receive them, following a headline you had no part in writing.  Fame can easily come to those who are the brunt of a joke, especially in the virtual community.  Yes, a person can bounce back from fortuitous media attention to reclaim the part of him or herself that was hijacked, but again, this requires a calculated response.  There's nothing wrong with leveraging and manipulating the power you've been handed -- and there is power in every name, recognizable or not.  (Just think of the costs related to the acquisition of domain and host titles, especially those connected to a person or thing with a strong Q score.)  Given the chance, only a handful of people would not choose to parlay an awkward predicament in the limelight towards something more, even if those who follow can be acerbic gawkers.  Yes, for every William Hung or Chris "Leave Britney Alone!" Crocker a modern sideshow attraction seeks restored anonymity.  But even the legendary Star Wars Kid eventually learned to "seize the reigns", deflecting a massive audience of mockers towards anti-bullying endorsements.  Whether this is solid clout is questionable, but then again, why do so many D-List veterans of long-passed reality shows keep popping-up like bad pennies, often as Talking Head commentators and authorities?  Simply put, unless you are the property of a company that harbors your name under its umbrella, or are puppeted by a "stage mom", you need to have a hand in steering any traffic that comes your way.  Because the 21st century world is a wild, unpredictable kingdom, and there are predators amidst the chaparral.  You are always going to be your strongest advocate.  Despite a harness, the horse is always stronger than the rider; similarly, a dog has significant control over the kind and quality of his run, even leashed.

Who's in charge?  The unmistakeable Gil Elvgren, Help Wanted (1939)

Does this verge into egomania?  Not necessarily.  If you are an artist, promotion is a necessary division of your job --unless you are the rare bird contented to father materials without concern for their interpretation, application, usage, and/or commercial reception.   I, personally, would find it hard to trust others not to bungle my legacy, preferring to flex any influence I might have over what I manage to produce before my ultimate demise.  Stopping short at snapping "selfies" (clichéd, artless masturbation) I am not above keeping a well-rounded arsenal of photos to have at one's judicious disposal.  True, I am guilty of posting a number of pictures of myself on Myspace and Facebook, but that was in the infancy of my life online, when I still needed to define myself --especially with burgeoning friendships.  Today, I am more selective with where my face is plastered.  Headshots, although corny, are the universally-traded 8" x 10" I.D.'s of modeling and acting circles; they are levied, inspected, juxtaposed, and replaced as earnestly as the business cards of Patrick Batemen's Wall Street cronies.  Thankfully, for non-entertainers, glossy studio smiles are not common currency and do not require regular distribution and refreshment.  Even so, nearly everyone at some point needs a quality likeness to share, and cameras just happen to be the default, trusty instrument of our age.  What they capture and represent can be exceedingly valuable, and not just for the First Families of basic cable.  Colleges and employers will often request an image of the applicant, and we all know these are deal-breakers for dating profiles.  I've had to take my father's publicity still (for his book's back cover and related press releases); I only just shot portraits of my grandmother for similar reasons.  The clipped pace at which most computer and smartphone users troll online belies an inborn tendency for making superficial, cursory judgements.  Entire generations have learned to be discerning of the clean or crowded fields stacked like playing cards on their glowing browsers.  How one's character --one's "essence"-- is seen in the grand scheme (i.e. when sorted by a search engine) may very well be the 2014 equivalent to having one's echelon researched and defined, all within seconds and not necessarily for honorable purposes.  You can never be sure what a viewer will choose to fixate on and what he will pass over.  But you can have some sway in the quality and number of materials being uploaded and channelled.  Dignity is rooted in discretion, and mystery trumps ubiquity.

Minding the shadows:  it's wise to limit your exposure, 
especially online.  (Image:  The Estate of Greta Garbo)

With this entry I am attempting to work through the shame and awkwardness of standing on the occasional soapbox -- not so much for sermonizing, but for drawing an audience to my meager achievements.  I grew under the influence of a penitent, self-flaggelating father who placed enormous emphasis on not being "conceited"; subsequently, I have for many years wrestled with how one can share personal and professional triumphs without being perceived an obnoxious braggard.  (Clearly, at some vulnerable age I came to assume the Bible's position regarding Deadly Sins, or at least so far as vanity and pride are implicated.  My thoughts on gluttony require more rigorous analysis and therefore shall be shelved for future discussion.)  It didn't help matters when, one week ago, I came across the following missive (with minor edits), posted to Facebook, or "FB", by my half-brother, a singer-songwriter Los Angeleno with a remarkable knack for commanding tunes to his Les Paul:

I was recently informed by a friend that sometimes I appear as a narcissist, and that FB is merely a silly form of entertainment.  I would like to explain that if I talk about myself [it is because I] am a bartender who is striving for a better way to live [by creating] my own business!  It's just that this business happens to be my band!  And FB is one of my tools to promote that business, so my apologies to anyone who is annoyed by my posts.  However, I will use any means necessary to create a better life for myself, and the ones I love.  [I am] working to become a world-renowned recording artist and performer, and I refuse to apologize for that.  So if my posts annoy you in any way, feel free to block me, un-friend me, or just disappear.  I'm giving 110% to bring my dreams into reality and don't need assistance from so-called 'friends' who like to make me look arrogant in a public forum where I'm just trying to share my art.  So with all due respect, f**k off and good luck with your junior high mentality -- I know who I am, and a peacock I am not.

Simply put, I cannot help but entertain the fear that this blog is an indication of unhealthy self-inflation, that in these writings I ruminate too intently and too often on myself and not peripheral matters.  It somewhat relieves my misgivings to think that personal concerns are intrinsic to the mission of Careful What You Wish, and that with this material I might furnish subscribers with a clearer grasp of the particular strains of mental disorders with which I can claim experience, applying what they learn to their own encounters.  Also, it has been brought to my attention that readers gravitate to sites with specific agendas; as I am not a celebrated personality I cannot expect the world to stand still for just any fleeting fancy and should stick to a definable, less arbitrary field.  (If the opposite were true, my Twitter account would surely serve more purpose.)  But I do not want the inwardly-directed orientation of this narrative to be confused with self-love, even though it would probably benefit more of us to pat our own backs when the right has been earned.

The (Google) Glass Menagerie

And with that dallying preamble I now introduce the central reasoning behind today's reflections on self-promotion.  At the urging of an uncle, in mid-January I scanned the list of open competitions on Artweek's "call for submission" page and promptly entered my work into two.  One was more prestigious and would help promote four new and promising voices via the Culturehall homepage and newsletter, reportedly received by professionals in the upwards of thousands.  For this I was rejected, having incorporated the two or three pages from this blog on which paintings and the like have been amassed.  The second, I am guessing, was decided by a less discerning body of jurors, as three of my photographs were chosen for the show.  This collection, presented online by ArtisTTable, is themed "IN AND OUT OF THE ZOO", and has placed my digital close-ups of a dead finch and robin on display along the bottom right side of Gallery One.  Needless to say, I did not win any special recognition or prize, other than to be included.  The curator was remarkably upbeat and encouraging; I did not expect to be so positively received after being given "the brush" from Culturehall's administrators.  I am thrilled to see that some of my photographs are now on a legitimate platform, especially as they are among the few non-paintings displayed in said showcase.  Its illustrations range in quality and vision, with an array of craftsmen from not only the USA, but also Israel and Europe.  The experience as a whole emboldens me to not downplay or neglect my use of a camera, even if I'm playing in a bush league division.