Daniel is an acquaintance that I encounter now and again here in Chicago. He is a sculptor, and he makes a real living at it! (A respectable feat–as many artists have to supplement their craft with another job or three.)
Over one year ago, Daniel submitted for a significant public installation design competition. If selected, it would have brought him increased notoriety, not to mention financial reward.
Now, most of us in the AEC industry can relate to how design competitions work. Sure, you may receive a small stipend from the client/decision maker, but your effort is probably 5-15 times more than the stipend covers. In better times (just a couple of years ago), a design firm might have entered such competitions as a ‘reward’ for the design team—giving them something fun and unique to work on (provided they could fit it in with their busy workload). And while those firms certainly hoped their team would succeed, their ‘happiness’ was never hinged on winning.
Let’s circle back to Daniel. In his case, it seems that his personal happiness is/was hinged on winning this international design competition. As the final days drew near—when it was down to just Daniel and one other artist—I happened to run into him a handful of times. Even then, before he knew for certain that they were not going to select his design, Daniel was dismal, mopey, and all together unhappy. Oh, and he was very, very vocal about his woes.
While I can completely understand his hurt (I would feel the same way), I am now (er, months later) ready for him to be ‘over it’. Daniel has been so self-absorbed by this bad news that I notice he never really listens to anything about me or anyone else within earshot. The first couple of times this happened, I let it slide. I respected him for being open and not trying to conceal his feelings; empathized with his disappointment; and appreciated that he trusted me enough to share his ‘truth’.
I finally realized, however, that Daniel shares this black cloud with anyone and everyone who will listen. So instead of feeling my original respect, empathy, and appreciation, the three words to best describe my perspective now are: frustrated, disappointed, and avoiding (interaction).
My wish for Daniel is that he become proactive about moving through his hurt. And as well, I wish for him to become enlightened on the notion that perhaps his negative attitude was actually some sort of self-fulfilling prophecy…and that, if he is not working towards an attitude adjustment, then his future endeavors may meet with the same level of defeat. Finally, I hope that Daniel’s story can remind me, and my readers, of the significant impact a highly ‘publicized’ negative perspective can have on oneself, and on those around them.