There is a bit of glamour in saying “I am an artist.” Everyone wants to be an artist. Why not. It’s a good life. Creating, using the imagination, massaging the spirit, as a job. In school we were encouraged to say, “I paint.” More modest. But it takes great confidence to make art, to keep going. Not to doubt. Even when the work is not going well, not becoming what is wanted by oneself, by the public. That’s when it is most difficult to be “an artist.” I have a friend who is very ill with advanced cancer. She uses all her available energy each day to paint. Her work now is acrylic on paper, and very exciting. I already knew her for quite a while before she was a student of mine at NSCAD. I and the other students consistently admired her work and especially her integrity. Her work was about searching, seeking and finding. She has abundant talent, always did interesting, exciting work, yet she was also always doubting herself. But it has taken near death for her to tell me she finally is confident she is an artist and has been all her life. I always found her directness and questioning admirable. But too much doubt is unhealthy, especially in the production of artwork.
I’m very lucky, live well. I’m able to do many things other people of my income level can’t do, just because I am an artist. I pay for my massage with artwork. My vet too takes art, as do many other services. I’ve had haircuts and clothes and garden help for paintings. If only the gas stations would realize they need art on its walls to bring in more customers. If only the grocery stores would understand how important art is to nourish their patrons. If only. . . So far I’ve managed to land on my feet. I left a difficult marriage with two children, a fish tank, two cats (who quickly became eleven then three), and then added a dog and another fish tank. (I’m sure there were some gerbils in there too somewhere.) Moved with this menagerie around Manhattan and with one child and one dog, to Nova Scotia. . . with major immigration hassles and no job.
Right now I’m about to open a new door, one I’ve never seen before. I have no idea what’s behind that door. Perhaps it’s a tiger. Maybe a lion. We will see. Soon enough. But I’ll always be painting. I have no doubts.
Posted by leya at December 18, 2006 09:17 PM