I sit here in pain. I have a bizarre proposal related injury. I've hurt my knee in a cruel and unusual application writing accident.
Like many creatives, I spend a large proportion of my time applying for funds, or writing proposals for exhibitions. Usually my proposals are, like most proposals, rejected. Other people's ideas were better than mine. That hurts more than my wounded knee, contorted and throbbing under my desk.
Other injuries suffered by artistic applicants of my acquaintance include: lack of daylight, piles from sitting still on the same spot for too long, and red eyes from prolonged screen time. Also - low self esteem. And creeping crowd-funding-itis: '.. I'll show 'em! I'll share my genius with public help!'.
Except, when you can't. When the only way your idea could possibly happen is with the assistance of formal outside funding aka The Big Art Pixies, who will cover the cost of quality space, pay for performers and materials, time etc.
Right now, it's not just my knee. My head hurts. And my heart aches. Oh - this creative life is so very hard *the artist has just swooned*
Tuesday, 3 September 2013
The Seven Stages Of Proposal Writing
1. Hope. Oooh, a chance! Of money to pay for my excellent, challenging, innovative, inclusive, multi-media, kinetic work.
2. Denial. ‘I don’t really care about the money. (Liar, liar – that burning smell? It’s your pants.They’re on fire.)
3. Procrastination. I haven’t done the Excel spread-sheet budget. But you could eat your dinner off my kitchen floor, and my books are filed alphabetically.
4. Exhaustion. Sudden invasion of work, paid or unpaid. I can’t do this proposal. I just don’t have time.
5. Doubt – this proposal is rubbish. It’s pants. It’s terrible. It's really grim.
6. Submission. The trauma and self doubt that follow pressing ‘send.’
7. Acceptance. Hooray! Yay! I can do my project! Or not. See- ‘rejection.' See also - tears.
Don’t let this happen. Share your proposal with – we could make it happen.