Wednesday, January 31, 2018

RECOGNITION

Recognition: the number one hunger? To be heard, to be seen, to be acknowledged. To be cliked by facebookers twitterers instagrammers in their dozens, hundreds, maybe more, or at least disliked in equally viral fashion. To prove that we are here, that we are who we are, that our story matters. That the thoughts we think, the words we write, the pictures we paint, the music and movies and moves we make, this little creature we call Me, this little selfie....oh!

Why are we so hungry to be seen? Look Ma, I'm dancing! Ma, I'm falling down! Ma, you're not looking! Is that it? All about childhood? Whether we were recognised too little or too much?

Re-cognition: I am recognised therefore I am. If not recognised I do not exist. True or false? Obviously false but so many believe it. The hunger always twinned with anxiety, the What If.........

Strangely enough, the more time goes by, the less anxious I become and the less hungry I feel. Maybe I should be hungrier.

13 comments:

Vincent said...

In place of Descartes' Cogito, here we have

Aliquis videt me, ergo sum

exquisitely converted from philosophy to art

Tom said...

Well I guess 'tripp terry' just about says it all! Except that in my experience, it is easier to like people who are not overtly needy.

Catalyst said...

The spam comment above is why I've had to put a spam filter on my blog but they still keep tryin'. At least he recognized you! ;^D

N. D'Arbeloff said...

Vincent, to be recognised is more than simply being seen. We're seen on a regular basis whenever we're among other people. But being recognised, in the sense I was using it, is to have an audience. An audience who is paying attention to something we are presenting, in whatever form. The craving for that kind of recognition and for the size and/or quality of audience one craves is often insatiable, particularly in the 'creative' realm. I'm part of that and I understand it but I also see it as a sort of addiction, something to grow out of if possible. Theoretically I feel it would be good if all creative works were done anonymously and therefore celebrity would disappear. But in the real world, I'll carry on signing my work!

Tom, if - for instance - you write a book into which you've poured your heart, mind and soul and then nobody reads it, or a handful of people read it but nobody comments, it's not really 'neediness' to long for recognition is it? The trouble is when the longing becomes an obsession. Actors, artists, writers, performers of all kinds, if fame is bestowed on them (deservedly or not) generally want more and more And in those who never reach fame, or only a little bit of it, bitterness and resentment often builds up.

Bruce, I've been lucky so far not to have been plagued by spammers. But if more of them turn up I certainly will use a filter! I wonder how they choose their targets?

Tom said...

No Natalie, I don't think it is neediness. If I had thought more carefully about my answer, before giving it [and trying to poke a little fun at Mr. Spam], I would have realised that my reasons for halting Gwynt were tied up in this business somewhere.

N. D'Arbeloff said...

Tom, yes, I realised that was the case. Still think you should, whenever you fel like it, continue with Gwynt.

Davoh said...

Ooer, how did you know that self is struggling at this point in my life?
Being 'sent to Coventry' (rejected by all and sundry in a community)
is not a pleasant place to be.

However, while have signed into another twelve month rental lease - can move (yet again).

A rolling stone gathers no moss?? Perhaps have too much moss for the petty minded, parochial, locals to cope with ...

N. D'Arbeloff said...

Davoh, sorry to hear you're being rejected. Why not write about what's happening rather than just hinting at it? People who read your blog, if they don't know you, would more likely become a circle of friends if you would share more of what your life is like in the place where you're now living. You speak of yourself as "self"...why?

Davoh said...

Natalie - 'tis one thing to be 'recognised for what one has DONE.

Quite another to have self 'recognised' in a public Hotel bar '''
and be 'escorted out' for something i 'haven't' done ...
(ah, the scuttlebut of small rural, small minded communities .. meh)

Davoh said...

"self"? Natalie - am 'myself' .. tend to not use the egotistical "I".

N. D'Arbeloff said...

Davoh, I don't see why "I" is any more or less egotistical than "self". Both are just words, and it seems to me that "I" is a bit more convenient. Anyway of course you're free to use any word you wish!

Your non-recognition and lousy treatment in the hotel bar sounds awful. Why not tell the whole story, just write it like a short story, you don't have to say it's about you... not "self" or "I", just make up a name for the guy. It starts like this:

A guy walks into a bar.......

Should Fish More said...

Not exactly (or at all, really) what you're referring to, but that's never stopped me......
One of the few benefits to being a geezer I've noticed and liked is I'm no longer perceived as a potential 'threat' to random women on the street and in isolated conditions. I always noticed that if I were walking down a deserted sidewalk or hallway, a woman I was either approaching or behind would display signs of nervousness....a rather large man they didn't know. And who could blame them. No longer. The grey hair and beard, stooped shoulders and less spry gait cause no alarm. I'm quite happy about that. Being seen as harmless is a fine thing to me.
Cheers,
Mike

N. D'Arbeloff said...

Mike...um..no, not what I was talking about but i'm all for conversations that go off track into any direction. However, come to think of it, you're not entirely off track. Recognition does have some bearing on recognising (or imagining) danger. I don't normally feel nervous if a large man is walking behind me but a large dog, that's another matter. Okay that's a joke. I know what you mean about age changing perceptions. I take advantage of it by looking daggers at `anyone who doesn't instantly give me a seat on a crowded bus. It always works.