Last night I went to a local photo thing. This wasn’t something put on by one of the professional organizations — just creatives who get together to show work. I went to be part of the crowd and to see the work, and to get out a bit. I didn’t have to be “on” — I could just look and be social.
I thought I’d go, walk the room, see the work, say hello to some folks I hadn’t seen in a while (one of the photographers is someone I don’t see usually at the other events), and leave. Turns out it wasn’t a hung show like I expected. It was a projected show with each photographer narrating his/her “slides.” As the MC started the event, he thanked the artists and the cafe owner (location) and the woman who really put it together, then he said that there were “a couple of celebrities in the audience” …a guy who runs a famous stock agency, and me.
That wigs me out. Obviously, I’m no celebrity. I am known in my field, but even there, it’s just weird to have someone ask for an autograph (book signing usually) or to call me “famous” or “a celebrity.” I don’t know what to do with myself when that happens. In my head, part of my brain is making the Sally Field Oscar speech (“You like me!”) and the other part is hearing the slave in my ear (“All glory is fleeting.”).
Mostly I just try to live by the words of HH the Dalai Lama: I am a bug.
(but yeah, it feels kinda good)