A Work in Progress
I was/am the victim of smear campaigns here in Calgary by local artist narcissists and gaslighters. I mean all artists here are. For a couple of reasons. Partly because the competition for art oil dollars is intense. So I quit being a local artist and became a global one.
My tiny provincial backwater home of origin is conservative-based. They love infrastructure. To them, artists are tradespeople who make decorative things for the walls of their buildings. 6 grand a pop to start. Must be figurative or landscape or modern religious based. Must be traditional media. Printmakers and painters are the local art gods. Sculptors if and only if they do female body parts.
The other reason is narcissistic religion-based. The women here do yoga. I know I used to live at Yashodhara Ashram where I was taught to gaslight myself for their profit. They gaslight everyone and each other.
So who was doing the smearing and why? Well, overvalue, undervalue, dump, smear is what narcissists do, they are deeply disturbed people with the brains of a carnivorous plant; the art scene the world over is full of narcissism. Attention cravers with no skills (or education) to practise and gain proficiency.
I was reminded recently that this has always been so, but unarmed with education in the past, I staggered from one devastating emotional blow to another. I also recently learned that a long deep relationship with one of these types will raise the cortisol levels, which never go down, causing strokes, heart attacks, and cancer it's a long list. Periodontal disease.
My narcissist mother and my father’s lung cancer come to mind. My particular friend Tref had skin cancer after Kathy Dodd dumped him. He was devastated and never had a relationship again, a very common reaction to narcissism without treatment. I tried to talk to her years later about his last days in hospice when he existed on morphine, he had no eyelids, no skin. She showed no empathy for me or Tref. There was no opportunity in this for her to gain attention I thought, upon reflection.
I had gone to the yoga class she was teaching, and she spoke harshly to me after, gaslighting that I had looked around the room. Not looking at her. When I was roommates with Kathy and Tref, she would sit so that her ginger pubic hair was revealed to me, her boyfriend's friend. An isolating behaviour. No wonder Tref’s cortisol levels were always on the rise. His Mom was an abandoner too.
Round and round.