Monthly Archives: January 2016

Why on some days it Sucks to be an Artist.

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I know to most people being an Artist seems wonderful.  It’s such a romantic notion, and yes on most days other than today,  I would say being an Artist is ‘The Best’.  But today I just need to write about this dreadful feeling before it passes, because it’ll hopefully make you smile – or if not for any other reason reading this may help remind you that  your life (or mine for that matter) is not so bad after all..

My car was broken into last night, yep – while I was at Town Hall in downtown Seattle listening to Eric Weiner talk about his new book The Geography of Creative Genius.  Yep – while I was hoping to become inspired, some poor soul bashed in the rear window of my brand spanking new 2015 Subaru Forrester.  So today I drove across town with a plastic trash bag over the open hole batting in the wind, it was so loud it actually drowned-out the usual hiss of Tinitus in my right ear.  Even with all this racket going on I kept hearing something else… While I was sitting amidst traffic and the pouring rain,  even when I slouched in my seat attempting to nap while the ferry crossed the sound – I heard repeatedly, “It sucks being an Artist!”  Why the f–k do I spend so many hours painting, photographing, touching up, framing, wiring hooks, and driving for 2 hours all the way across town and then on the ferry just to hang my art in a little cafe called Luna on Vashon Island?   I know it could be a lot worse, as I was reminded every hour on the hour today by NPR – that there are mosquitos flying around in central America with the Zika virus, and they could potentially fly up here.  But why would they fly up here where it’s cold and grey and bite gloomy me, when they can be warm and bite happy people south of the Equator?

But here’s what I feel compelled to share with you – it’s that being an Artist isn’t a choice.  I can’t believe I wrote that because I believe that everything in life is a choice.  But choosing to be an Artist is like choosing your sexuality or your height or choosing your parents, it’s the kind of choice you make before you incarnate.  It’s a choice my soul made before the cards were dealt, because my soul knew that the unpredictable emotional roller coaster life of an Artist was what I needed to experience to grow in this lifetime, damn. Now that’s a word I can put a period after.

I’ve tried doing other things, it’s not like I’m not capable of doing other things, but when I’ve tried other vocations – I’m like a salmon struggling to make it up stream. I mess up with the most mundane tasks. No lucky breaks, no synchronicity, no signs I’m headed in the right direction.  And all this adds to the mild lethargy that settles into my brain and into my bones when I haven’t had my daily dose of creativity.   On the other hand  when I make and share art, I often get signs I’m headed in the right direction.  For instance by the time I arrived at the cafe this afternoon the mere thought of unloading my paintings,  wiring,  hanging and pricing them made me want to lay down. Then when I opened the rear of the car I noticed that I had accidentally left behind a Giclee print of a painting I had recently spent time and money to frame that I really wanted to show.  After this realization sunk in me I began to see all the little dings in the frames that always happen from moving my paintings around and I began to feel as weak as a lone Egyptian slave moving a massive stone up the pyramid of Giza.  None the less I trudged on, first pealing off my layers of wet clothing, and  then unpacking my paintings, carrying them in to the crowded cafe, all the while cursing under my breath  “They said it would be empty in the cafe in the late afternoon. Damn the rain – it makes Seattleites want to hang out inside and drink coffee.  While I was deep in these very high vibrational thoughts, a woman with white hair and clear grey eyes came up to me and said, “Your work really caught my eye, it’s so warm and full of feeling.”  She obviously had lived long enough to see a lot of art, so her compliment meant something to me.  However I don’t think she realized how much her words meant to me, they lifted my energy like a cup of coffee. When people are moved by my paintings, or appreciate my Looking Glass necklaces, or are even slightly entertained by my writing, I feel good. It’s that simple. Every thirsty cell in my body feels like it’s taken a big sip of cool well water.  Which leads me to my thoughts on water, and how valuable it is. Water is something we can’t live with out, I feel we need to be more appreciative of how valuable water is,  and I think art is like water, we all need it.  Okay, enough said. For now I will end with an invitation to you to go take a look at my websites. I hope you’ll find something on one of my sites that you just can’t live without,  or can’t live without gifting  to someone else.  Below is a picture of the Giclee print I forgot to bring to the cafe today, it’s called Nesting Heart, it pretty much sums up how I felt today, but because I am an Artist – I know I won’t feel this way tomorrow.  www.ArtByWendra.com

Nest Heart 72dpi

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