One must consider, from time to time, say, when the solid mass of accomplishment to which one is engaged daily, breaks open, a moment of pause revealed in which lies a brief self-reflective moment that holds up a mirror, however quickly, and one must clearly see how to deal with the onslaught of The Other. In the mirror I see a crowd of blurred faces looking over my shoulder. I'm not sure exactly what I mean by this, but recent events have made it clear that there is a tension that exists within my own frame of mind based on what I imagine are the expectations of others in relation to what I imagine are my own expectations for my self. It "affects" me, and I'm never clear how to negotiate the affectation.
For instance, it is becoming more and more clear, as my various projects begin to engage with the mechanisms of The World, that my Public perception grows more and more narrow. At least I imagine it to be so. Ben Watson, if I recall correctly, wrote in Art Class & Cleavage that we are defined by what we do to earn money, and this might be more clearly stated by saying we are defined by what others perceive one does to earn money. My trouble is that I'm not sure what it is that I do that earns money -- I count mice, for one thing. I teach workshop classes at George Brown College. I publish books. I sell books. And occasionally I publish my own work and am paid for it. Soon, I will finish the library degree I am working on and I will get a job in that field and add to my assorted definitions whatever it is that I will be doing that pulls a paycheque. And somehow in there lies me -- the me I wake up to each morning and stare at in the actual mirror sans extra faces before I run off to accomplish several things at once for the day. But what does The Other I imagine looking over my shoulder think I do to earn money? Or, if I'm not defined by earnings, what does The Other think I am?