An artist friend recently shared with me an article they wrote titled “The ABCs of Underground Art”. I really enjoyed it, and they encouraged me to write my own ABC’s of the type of art that I do as a fun journaling prompt to use to unwind and organize your thoughts. Those that have followed me for awhile know that I don’t typically stick to just one type of art, so to open up the limits I decided to make my “alphabet” the ABC’s of Creation. I have assigned a word to each letter, along with a video of my illustrating a cool little ACEO sized letter inspired visual to go with each word. Read, listen, or both – whatever works!Â
B is for Beauty. Of course, when we create something we hope others will want to look at it (or listen, or watch, or read …) Beauty means different things to everyone. The great thing about that is, there is a pretty good chance that someone out there will find your creation beautiful, even if it doesn’t fit the norm of how beauty is typically defined. 7 years ago now, I created one of my favorite pieces of a young woman with down syndrome looking joyful, confident, and gorgeous. When it was shown for the first time at an exhibit and awarded, some viewers were confused, did not approve, or were even angry. (How did I know this? I have very acute hearing and was even playfully called “elephant ears” by my parents as a kid because I heard EVERYTHING.) Though the lack of openness towards diversity in portraiture or a disdain towards people with disabilities is definitely not ok, it is ok for us to not all agree on one definition of beauty. Many more people have adored this same mixed media drawing. We each get to define what beauty is for ourselves.
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I have really been slacking this year at keeping up the blog portion of my website. I have been posting new content on my youtube channel on a monthly basis. I usually share these here as well, but this Spring definitely got away from me as I became busy with some unexpected big projects which I will be sharing soon! For now, a fun new prompt to encourage me to keep up with posting, which hopefully you enjoy as well.
An artist friend recently shared with me an article they wrote titled “The ABCs of Underground Art”. I really enjoyed it, and they encouraged me to write my own ABC’s of the type of art that I do as a fun journaling prompt to use to unwind and organize your thoughts. Those that have followed me for awhile know that I don’t typically stick to just one type of art, so to open up the limits I decided to make my “alphabet” the ABC’s of Creation. I have assigned a word to each letter, along with a video of my illustrating a cool little ACEO sized letter inspired visual to go with each word. Read, listen, or both – whatever works!Â
A is for Anxiety. Though this may seem like a negative way to start my ABC’s of Creation, it really isn’t. Creativity is essential to me as a tool for anxiety relief and general well being. No matter what I am doing be it lesson examples, youtube demos, commissions, or art just for me I am lucky that it all affects me in the same profoundly positive way. I know it isn’t that way for everyone, and I am so grateful that any type of creating, even when it is ‘just a job’, doesn’t feel arduous to me but instead is life giving. When I start to get this feeling of agitation like even my very skin is uncomfortable and just on too tight, I know that if I take a pause and go create something I will be ok. Creativity brings a sense of relief and reprieve, and refills my battery.Â
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The only time I ever felt 100% ‘solid’ outside of my home growing up as a kid was in art class; a real, seen person as opposed to a sort of misty vapor you may feel in the air but not give much notice – a draft that causes a door in the house to close causing a noise for just a second, this abrupt sound being the end of its impact. I wasn’t popular by any means, and though gifted academically, I had far too much social anxiety and general sense of perpetual overwhelm to be a leader. This makes it all the more curious that I managed to spearhead a short-lived fashion empire at my elementary school in my tenth year.
I didn’t have the look of an up and coming designer. I wore jeggings before there was a word for them, much to my classmates’ amusement. I suppose I was just 20 years ahead of the trends. Other than that, I typically donned a whole lot of athleisure, emphasis on the leisure part of that word because I was hopeless at sports. (Note the photo of me with my hero wearing a fake soccer uniform from the American Girl catalogue.) Despite my unassuming style, I could draw models donning original clothing that caught the eyes of the other girls in class. I drew my own fashion magazines at home all the time. When asked what I was doing one day while doodling at my desk after finishing my classwork early, I answered after a long pause, “Working on my magazine”. The next day, half the class was lining up for interviews to be on staff.
I assigned everyone departments. We even had a lingerie section, ironically drawn by the most religious girl in class. She curtly explained without being asked that the models in the hand-drawn photoshoot were married so it was ok, with a definitive huff at the end. As Editor In Chief, people were coming to me for approval and advice, and it felt good at first. They even followed my quirky rules. All text in the publication had to be written in the alien font I invented, which was a mix of Egyptian hieroglyphics and Microsoft Webdings. All were given translation keys for their convenience.
Things were going smoothly until one day, my Vice President called an emergency meeting with only the board of the Fashion Club, as we were so creatively called. A lot of members felt one of the girl’s designs just weren’t cutting it. They proposed she be ousted from the group. I gave it careful consideration, and admitted her ideas weren’t very good. She complained about having to use my specialized typography, also made clear regularly her disdain for the requirement that our designer names be our first names spelled backwards, and she lived in my neighborhood and frequently stopped over without calling first to play with my toys. I was still steamed that last time she’d visited, she spat on my Sleeping Beauty Aurora doll whose eyes close like she’s sleeping when you wet them with … well, it was supposed to be water. I’d never fired anyone before – I’d never even had a real job aside from watering the neighbor’s plants when they went on vacation. It could be fun.
The next recess, I called neighborhood girl into my office, which was behind the tallest tree on the playground. I told her directly that this wasn’t working out, expecting it to be cool. It was not cool. She called me a bitch, a word I only knew from my favorite Alanis Morrissette song, and gave me the finger, a gesture whose meaning was unclear to me at this time. Following this, she ran off sobbing uncontrollably. I felt terrible. I’d had my first real taste of power and influence, and I absolutely hated it.
My last post being about the misgivings of AI art, and this one now being a trip down memory lane to the beginnings of social media, it should be no surprise to readers that I am about to be closer to 40 than 30 with my birthday end of this month. As a socially anxious teen just starting to be proactive about actually sharing my art with the wider world, I may have a bit more warm nostalgia about these early platforms than most. Everyone back then had their own Angelfire website, even those who had absolutely nothing to showcase other than an “All About Me” page with random facts about favorite colors, animals, and food with little dancing cartoons GIFs in the margins. The fact that you could have your own special place out there on the internet was just so novel at the time.
My first social was a xanga blog, which was mostly young people but didn’t have as many kids on it as livejournal, had more interactive capabilities, and seemed to attract more of the artsy, alternative crowd overall. In junior high, I was emailing friends if I wanted to virtually communicate. A combination of xanga and AIM was a social life game changer. Everyday people from all over the world essentially created a completely public diary, which may seem like a horrible idea but back then it was great. At least at my school, it was as common as facebook is now and it allowed you to get to know people on a deeper level that you may not get to interact with for more than 10 minutes during school. Despite widespread parental concern that instant messaging and blogs were going to turn kids into antisocial aliens, for me it actually helped me find people with similar interests and aided me in launching the whole “making friends” bit.
People weren’t turning themselves into a brand yet. Nowadays (a very old person word to start a sentence with), if you use your social media accounts like an actual diary people think you’re weird and need therapy. Full disclosure, I don’t really let this deter me. People would share photos from their day, mostly blurry and with bad lighting. Nothing was curated or planned out, no one knew what an aesthetic was. There was to my knowledge no privacy settings. It was made to be public. Complete strangers would comment on your everyday thoughts, passionate infodumps, and photography and they weren’t bots, and they weren’t trying to sell you something. I made close bonds with people across the US and some outside of it for about a year or two. We shared things we’d never told anyone, even friends or family, because at the end of the day sometimes it’s just easier to open up to someone you don’t see all the time. One online friend didn’t know how to tell their very traditional immigrant parents that they were gay. Another had been in love with this person in their class since 6th grade, and now as a high school junior it looked like a relationship might finally happen but their strict, closed minded parents were against interracial dating and they were afraid of the consequences at home. Another was severely depressed and didn’t understand why as nothing in particular was going wrong, and they wondered if others had gone through anything similar and how they broke out of it. Another was being bullied a lot at their school, and just wanted to see if they were actually a cool person capable of making friends outside of that weird bubble where everyone had already made up their mind about them. I became friends randomly with an entire Canadian indie black metal band. We critiqued each other’s bad poetry, posting stanzas back and forth.
This is magic that I don’t think could happen today. Were these lifelong friendships? Of course not. Even early on I knew not to hand out my phone number to assorted people on the internet so our time only lasted for the couple of years I continued using the platform. I don’t see this as mattering, though. So many people are only part of our life for a season. At that time, these conversations filled a void, inspired, and made people in their teens and early 20s feel heard. No one, at least in our age group, had yet figured out how to use social media to manipulate. People generally remembered that there was a real human behind each funny little blog and acted accordingly. There were minimal facades – We just didn’t see the point. Now, every post must be calculated – Is this ‘on brand’ for me, does this make me look happy/successful/competent? Is this opinion too abrasive, this musing too controversial? 75% of the time we just let memes speak for us. We are all products, and it kind of makes me sad. Social media is pressure. Everyone expects instant responses to their comments or messages. It’s work, not relief, not belonging. Maybe it’s because I’m older now, maybe it’s because I finally have a larger network of people IRL who do want to socialize with me regularly, maybe it’s because I no longer feel surrounded by people that oppose my every social or political stance like I once did, and the lack of alienation has made something like xanga obsolete for me – but the internet just isn’t fun anymore. Not like it used to be.
I’ll leave you with some of my early profile pics. The bad editing you now witness actually took a lot more work back then than simply clicking a few buttons. What a time to be alive ^_^. Retro emoji is intentional.
I’ll be honest, I do digital art when I have to for some logo commissions and such but I love traditional art, and I love traditional animation. I once had an art student who was very into Disney, and they would bring in printouts of digitally remastered screenshots and point out all the errors, circling them in red pen on one copy and then drawing over a 2nd copy to fix the colors, textures, etc. and restore them closer to the original, thus “fixing” it. That was their relaxing art therapy – and you know, I get it. That being said anyone who knows me can guess ahead of time I’m probably not going to be into AI visuals. Whether you like the look of AI art, or find it to be a soulless disaster, the fact of the matter is there are some questionable ways AI is trained to create “art” that definitely looks like stealing from other artists unless you are using the programs just as an idea generator or a “base” which you then digitally draw on top of and make your own.
The other concern which should be valid whether you enjoy AI or not is the fact that there are many people that already, even with AI generated images still in their wonky stage, cannot tell when something isn’t real. This could be problematic where things like news and current events are concerned, and AI has already been used to make fake photos of celebrities. I can typically tell pretty easily as I’m a highly detailed, visual thinking person. For those who have a more difficult time discerning, some suggestions I’d start with as far as what to look for are:
“Snapchat Filter Face” – Everything is unrealistically smooth with a “glow” that doesn’t seem to be coming from any light source. Eyes often look like they are plastic, and seem glazed and overly glossy.
Bizarre details such as clothing that doesn’t make sense (a floating collar above a scoop neck T-shirt for example), nonsensical background details such as a home kitchen with 3 ovens instead of cupboards and counter space, misspelled words, objects that don’t belong in the context of the scene, things that are out of proportion scale wise.
Lack of clarity – Disappearing edges or fogginess in the background, and conflicting light sources.
AI looks like a dream because of the missing details, skewed text and numerals, hazy edges, ambiguity, and even the nonsense. You’d think I’d love it as I’ve always been into surrealism and dream inspired media. I do love the below images (the creator openly expressed that Midjourney was used, which I appreciate. ).
Still, the human mind is an important element that’s missing. A big part of surrealism is psychology, opening your mind to the unconscious, and freeing oneself of social standards and social norms. AI is the exact opposite. It trains on immense amounts of existing images as well as popular opinion based ratings, making it a culmination of what is trendy, and often stereotypical. There is something to be said for using art to show us something we can’t see in real life as a means of visually communicating a real life emotion, struggle, or life experience. (Left, some of my works in progress. Right, one of my favorites from Remidios Varo, ‘Woman Leaving The Psychoanalyst’.)
AI does create some interesting opportunities for allowing those with dexterity issues from injury or disability to create visual art. Of course, I think of my students with disabilities that I teach on a weekly basis that work with these issues to still create handmade visual art just in a completely different way, and have to wonder if that isn’t still more satisfying. We actually have a 3D printer and I can’t get them to touch it! They want to get their hands in the paint and pastels.
Technology can be a great tool to help us innovate. In my opinion, it’s not being used well if it creates more sameness and overwrites creativity.
I had the opportunity end of last year to create a largescale piece of art for an animal themed show at one of the galleries where I teach. When the call was made, I already had a canvas prepped and had been planning to do something centered around a jungle scene anyway. I decided to take the original idea further and come up with a concept that would fit the upcoming exhibit. From the beginning I’d wanted to represent all of my “big cats” in the jungle scene as female, and have the piece exude an essence of feminine strength, power, and courage. In the end, I had a lot of trouble coming up with a title when suddenly the word “Belonging” popped into my head and just wouldn’t leave.
So, I ended 2023 completing a piece about strength and courage, and in the first half of 2024 I had two people lend me the same book within the same week, The Gifts Of Imperfection by Brene Brown. I supposed that meant I should probably read it! Within the first 30 pages, I learned the important fact that I am actually courageous, a quality I may see in the characters in my art but that was never, ever a word I would have thought to apply to myself. The introductory chapter explains the root of the word courage in the original latin as deriving from cor, meaning heart – courage originally meant ‘to speak one’s mind by telling one’s heart’. As the chapter went on to delve deeper into that concept, I came to the realization that I have been courageous all along and just didn’t know it because I was defining courage by cinema standards.
I have often joked with people that I don’t do small talk, I only do big talk. I love being around people, but I have anxiety and some sensory issues (the main reason why I never thought the word courageous could ever apply to me by default), and so my social reserves get depleted quicker than maybe the average person. I need regular intervals of alone time to recharge. I’m not going to waste my precious reserve talking about whether it’s sunny or cloudy outside when you could just look out the window or stick your hand out the door and feel it. I don’t feel like describing the minutia of what I did all day, or answering any questions that only require one word like “fine”. I’m not opposed to being friendly and polite, but for the most part I don’t understand spending energy in conversation that adds nothing edifying to either person’s life. At times, this tendency has backfired. Some people don’t want to hear about the interesting dream you had last night and what you think it means, or to be asked what was the most fascinating thing they’ve thought about today, what was the most surprising thing they’ve seen this week – and that’s ok. Some people are uncomfortable hearing about anything that isn’t sunshine and rainbows, and seeing the raw emotions of the people around them. That’s where the courage part comes in I suppose, going deeper you risk rejection and ridicule.
I am an open book and always have been. I honestly think I don’t know how to be un-authentic so I don’t always even have a choice, it’s just how I work! Over the last 5 years especially I have been candid with people in my life about the inevitable beauty of life, and the accompanying chaos. Through virtual communication like this and other means I’ve shared my experiences even with those I don’t know that well. I don’t shy away from letting others know how I am doing, including when I am struggling. I have been open and honest about what I need when I’m not getting it, about the tough choices I’ve made that everyone might not like, about how my relationships are going. I’ve learned to be mindful, and to allow my openness to be paired with purpose and deliberation after some communication missteps. At the end of the day though, my sharing something uncomfortable that I’ve experienced can help others going through similar things, and also open the eyes of people who may never have given that experience a thought so that they can look at situations around them with compassion and curiosity, not judgement and condemnation. Reaching out and saying, I am struggling because I have been working so hard and still don’t feel like I belong anywhere is the only way there will be any hope of someone else reaching back and saying, ‘hey, I may know a place where you would!’.
I believe that is why that word “Belonging” was stuck in my mind after I stepped back and looked at my finished painting. I don’t think you can make a true connection with anyone if you aren’t willing to show all the parts of you. Belonging takes courage.
At the opening reception, a fellow artist came up to me and shared that her child had looked at my painting and said ‘That girl looks like she would play with me’. Sometimes our art knows what it wants to say before we do.
2023 was overall a fantastic year filled with enriching experiences, but the last quarter, typically my favorite part of each year, definitely roundhouse kicked me in the behind. I ended the year with pretty debilitating burnout, and was already begrudgingly dreading the middle-to-end of the NEXT year because, why would it be any different? I’m sitting here like a big dummy changing absolutely nothing about the major pillars of my life.
We hear time and time again that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. A fear of stagnation is drilled into us, and especially in this day and age we are expected to always be doing something new. People that don’t like change or enjoy a particular routine are looked at as dull and uninspiring, lacking in aspiration. We are told if we get tired of something, or a particular job, relationship, etc. isn’t serving us then just drop everything and start over, and often face judgement if we don’t. Everyone sees the big changes, but no one notices those subtle, butterfly effect changes that can make a huge difference without completely blowing up your life (Disclaimer: Sometimes you do need to start over, trust me, I’ve been there. But not always…) I propose a little bit of advocacy for consistency, and sticking around long enough to get to the breakthrough.
This was a year of growth for me: growth in closeness to my family and friends both new and old; growth with my partner as we both became better versions of ourselves individually, and learned how to mesh these individual identities into a shared life; and growth in my career as the first year I worked as an independent artist. Growth is not linear. Not everything worked well. There was a lot of joy as I packed more different experiences than I’ve had in the last 5 years into one, but also a lot of tears. Much of 2023 was one big learning experience.
I grew my online business, took part in public arts projects, lead an art restoration project, taught art to just about every age and ability level in 5 different cities, and finally refurbished my unfinished basement and created an official home studio.
Some things I learned in my first year as an independent artist are:
Teaching is a key component for job stability as a traditional artist. I’ve seen other independent artists that are graphic designers make logos and web design their main base, but as a creator who only dabbles in the more techy stuff, teaching at local arts non-profits has been a consistent base especially once word of mouth spreads via happy students. Being involved as a contractor at larger organizations rather than only trying to teach private lessons or workshops independently has the added benefit of opening the door to other opportunities once that organization learns your skillset.
Be choosy about market venues. When it comes to in person art markets and festivals, I had been taking the approach of best value and high quantity. I ended up getting super burnt out as it’s no secret markets are a lot of work, and so many of the “Amazing, this venue is only charging 20 bucks to set up!” opportunities were completely dead with no customers. All those small charges could have added up to funds to afford the gas and booth fee for an out of town venue in a more populated, high traffic area for example. In 2024 I will be focusing on larger, more established markets, but maybe doing less than 5 per year rather than one every couple weeks. When it comes down to it, today I think in person sales are more about getting your face out there and talking to people about your brand than making a huge amount of money.
Your social tribe isn’t necessarily the same demographic as your customers. This is something really interesting I’ve discovered through my own record keeping and observations. I do a lot of upcycled clothing. Overwhelmingly, the women who buy my clothing are women 2-3+ decades older than me that enjoy having artsy statement pieces as a part of their everyday wardrobe. My juniors painted and fabric collage garments on the other hand take forever to move. Similarly, when I set up my art prints and mixed media work for sale at venues that are places I’d actually hang out (a punk rock music festival for example) I sold almost nothing, but when I set up at events that attracted a lot of customers that were actually quite different from me and my typical friend group, I surprisingly sold well! It is advantageous to pay attention to who is most excited about your work, and see if there are any common threads.
Take control of your schedule, and be intentional. One of the main reasons I wanted to go independent was to get a better handle on my anxiety level. I have always had an incredibly difficult time with not knowing exactly what my schedule will look like way ahead, or the idea of my day to day routine being controlled by someone else – that’s a big anxiety trigger for me, and though I’ve tried to work around it at the end of the day it’s just how my brain works. I was tempted to jam in every opportunity possible all over the place because realistically, sometimes things don’t run and I didn’t want to come up empty handed. I ended up with an erratic schedule that if a boss had handed to me, I’d have been really angry with them – but it was me who had done it to myself! Dealing with work that is not necessarily “guaranteed” can be nerve-wracking because, well, survival. Now that I have been able to observe what usually always ends up pulling through and what pursuits are a bit more of a wildcard, I can allow myself to say no to some things so that I can include other important things in my life besides just work.
Become familiar and comfortable with ups and downs. As implied, there will be times when everything is coming together and it’s one big achievement after the other, and times when things are really slow. It’s like this for any independent or commission based job, and you have to just expect it to happen and plan/budget accordingly to the best of your ability.
Resist marrying your value and identity to your job. This has been difficult for me anyway as discussed in a previous post. It is especially challenging for those that are in a creative field because so much of what we put out into the world through our craft is very personal. However, this tie is dangerous because during those times when work slows down or a project you were excited about gets delayed, etc. you end up taking it personally and feeling like you are a bad person or have a bad life, and it can color absolutely everything. A small or medium size setback becomes insurmountable. I love what I do and am passionate about it, but it is no longer the most important facet of my existence and that is normal and healthy.
I always do a small project for the new year inspired by the new Pantone Color Of The Year. This year’s was Peach Fuzz, which is honestly not my favorite. However, the soft, neutral orange color was perfect to add a warm glow to some watercolor winter scenes.
I hope you enjoy the quick demo, and have a wonderful start to the new year. Other working creatives out there, what are some things that you learned in 2023?
Though I’m a visual artist and not an actor, screenwriter, or animator I am a big movie enthusiast – I probably watch 4-6 movies per week! Every so often when I movie comes out that I find particularly inspiring or thought provoking, I like to share my take.
Though I’ve enjoyed some films over the years that happen to be anime and in general find Japanese culture intriguing and enjoyable, I am by no means an anime fan. I love Hayao Miyazaki’s films in particular, but I’ll admit not even all of his films warranted a re-watch for me (My favorites are Spirited Away and Howl’s Moving Castle). Before watching, I’d read that this was one of his least magical films. Though I was still intrigued and excited I didn’t expect to enjoy this as much as the aforementioned favorites because I do enjoy a great deal of magic and whimsy. Despite being grounded in reality, there were plenty of surprises and this film, titled in Japan “How Do You Live”, did not disappoint. I am going to give my perspective on the art and general themes but not get into the specific plot beyond the basic premise that can already be found in the film’s teaser description as I don’t want there to be spoilers for those who haven’t seen it.
Visually, I love the distinct differences in proportion, expression, and other aesthetic details present in each character. One of the main things that can get old about anime for me is that a lot of the characters tend to follow an archetypal formula in how they are visually presented, or all look the same. Nowhere is this attention to creating distinct features more present than in the case of the elderly maids that live with the main character and his family. Each woman’s personality comes forward before she utters a word, even the ones of the group that are mainly just background characters. Also important to note is from my observation, it is common in anime for characters to always be portrayed very stereotypically “pretty” and have super idealized characteristics. Miyazaki leans into the characteristics of old age in a way that is not pretty, but not frightening like Disney’s witches and instead adorable and endearing.
The richness in color, texture, and pattern especially within the animals that often appear in multiples is breathtaking. Even the creatures that are far away in the back, or covered by most of the foreground group are given just as much detail.
There are definite Wonderland elements along with the main historical story that was influenced by Miyazaki’s own life, growing up in Japan during WWII. Reminiscent of the soot sprites in Spirited Away, the Wara-wara are the adorable hoard of identical beings that you can’t help but smile at. Unborn souls that have yet to float up to earth, the scene involving these whimsical creatures was actually quite emotional for me though it was a small part of the overall story. The birds with hybrid human characteristics peppered throughout were also loads of fun.
I actually think the original title “How Do You Live”, though maybe a bit more convoluted and not as “grabbing” for potential viewers, fits the movie far better than “The Boy and The Heron”. This story is about so much more than just their journey together. This film was more accessible than many of Miyazaki’s others that were way out there in the fantasy realm. I mention Spirited Away often, and though I loved that movie for it’s unique visuals I didn’t grasp any understanding of it really until I took a course in Shintoism at college to fulfill a university program requirement! “The Boy and The Heron” was still quite open ended and doesn’t just hand the viewer the answers, which makes it all the more compelling.
The intersection of truth and curiosity is a major theme, as well as the question of whether one will choose reality over fantastical distractions, even if it is more difficult. The messages I heard after much reflection were that life is worth its many hardships for the good bits; we must discover and acknowledge our own flaws, not in self hatred but so that we can strive to be better; everyone has a backstory. Those who seem timid now, have gone through times where they had to be brave, those who seem settled and boring have had adventures, who you see now when you meet someone is not who they have always been, but who they were before has made them who they are now.
There are now more options than ever should we want to remain unfocused and distracted from our real everyday life, so this tale is a timely meditation.
It’s interesting to see how this blog has changed since its early stages, the one constant being a celebration of creativity and self expression. At the start I was focused on sharing current artists I’d discovered, and easy lesson plan ideas. Now, I find more of the focus to be on the journey of living this life as a creative person, mental health, and authenticity. I like that what I share has evolved to become more relatable to all folks, not just artists.
I don’t think I ever realized growing up that life would literally be just constant change. I was the kid growing up that wanted to know everything that was going to happen the next day, and had to be warned well in advance if any part of the “itinerary” happened to change, no matter how miniscule. As I am confronted with another unavoidable period of uncomfortable change, sometimes I wonder why I don’t seem to fit into any of the categories laid out before me, like a multiple choice exam where all of the answers appear to be wrong and there is no “none of the above” option.
As a woman, we hear the term “having it all” a lot. This all means that you have kids, a husband, family, maybe a pet, AND a career. That’s it. That’s what all means … 2 things. Yes those are two BIG DEAL things that take up a lot of time and energy, but still, that’s all we get is 2 choices? That’s absolutely crazy to me. I’ve known for a long time I didn’t want my own kids (though I sure do enjoy when I get to visit my new-ish niece!). At the moment, my career is a bit up in the air and I’m finding that I may not have the ‘boss babe’ personality or the workaholic drive I assumed I must have since I didn’t want kids. Doesn’t everyone get one or the other? I’ve discovered what I thought was career ambition was just hyperfocus tendencies in general directed towards an area of interest. If that interest is missing, then poof the vigilance is unfortunately gone. I get a lot of anxiety when my entire schedule and life’s structure is beholden to the whim of some other entity, and when I was working as a non-profit Program Coordinator though I liked being able to tell people I run something ;), I ended up super burned out on a regular basis. So, if I’m not a career woman and not an aspiring wife and mother am I nothing at all? [Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure men face a lot of these either/or black and white fallacies as well but I’m not going to presume to speak about something I’ve not experienced. If you’re a guy that wants to share an example you’ve run up against, feel free to share in the comments!]
Life is rarely clear, but I find it interesting that I can often find clues even within my own art. I see 2 mature ladies created in 2017 and 2020 that are confident, joyful, and at peace, on their own, within themselves. I identify with them, and think that could be me one day. I see a woman whose tears are butterfly wings (The original is currently hanging at Studio 23!), created in 2019 during one of my toughest periods of significant change, pain and evolution hand in hand. I even noticed the concept sketch for my newest installment in my current series, titled “Patience”. Seeds to a great tree are in hand, as the figure imagines what may one day be.
I’m finding that in order to successfully manage change, growth, and any sort of patience I can’t try to look at myself through the generic lens our society tries to use to discern who belongs where, or I just end up seeing myself distorted and confused like looking in a funhouse mirror.
If the answers don’t fit, sometimes I have to use a giant purple crayon to write in a new one, or at least that is how I like to imagine it.
Allise Nicole's Artistic Explorations 