Been thinking a lot about artistic self-confidence, self-esteem as of late. Kind of goes with any new territory, emotional or physical: moving (again) to a new place can result in a sort of Snakes & Ladders effect as far as marshaling inner resources, and conversely the opportunity to cultivate new outer ones. The renewal process of coming full circle after the creative reboot means another round of introspection coupled with simultaneous outreach effort, which makes for an interesting mental bungee-cord.
Recently put up a copy of the curriculum vitae on-line as one of the dedicated, stand-alone blog pages, part of a shift in incorporating the website increasingly more as a marketing tool for potential academic gigs, along with the usual freelance work. Writing such things gives a sort of a retrospective perspective of one's relative accomplishments over time, and is about as satisfying as doing another drawing: it will shortly be seen as comparatively insignificant - like making art it never seems to be enough, or good enough, etc. The inner critic is a background monologue of constant motivation, and like all critics, at some point it's equally as important to ignore it. Keep producing, keep working
Metaphor: just when everything seems laid out just perfect, along comes something else - like enjoying quiet contemplation of a peaceful view and a bigass moose wanders into the picture (as happened while writing this very post). Whenever I pick up a pencil there's always an awareness of the eraser at the other end, and for every finished panel there's always another blank sheet of Bristol underneath.