Gone fishing.

From Fried Society by Chris Kelly. All rights reserved.

I had a good day today, better than 99% of the days I had in Singapore. I voiced and produced a two-minute soundtrack for an AVP, and presented the finished soundtrack two hours later to a rather pleased crowd consisting of the managing director, the suit, and the video’s director. I wrote, voiced, and produced the whole damn thing myself, so I guess I have a right to be, as the Brits say, "chuffed".

I’m wary, though. I felt too good about the compliments, like I wouldn’t be able to live without them flying my way every minute or so. I also have a tendency to get too complacent with them, like I relax a bit, I get a little less hungry about work, because I feel the goodwill might make them forget my mistakes.

The opposite of that situation is just as bad. Singaporean natives will never tell you if you’ve done a good job, but they’ll get on your case in an instant when you fuck up. Irritating. What’s the point of working if you don’t know what their standard of "good work" is? What’s the point, especially for creative people, when all you get is crap for your bad work, and your good work goes unrecognized?

That being said, I’m of two minds on compliments. I don’t know if I take compliments well. I think I take insults better – I know how to pull an appropriately apologetic look, or a stone-cold "I don’t give a fuck" look where appropriate. Compliments, I have no appropriate bearing on the proper response. (When in doubt, I resort to the bashful smile, but I have a feeling it just makes me look idiotic.)