The nature of being an artist and other rambles
While it is perfectly valid to be an artist for creating pretty images, lovely music, or anything else creative, for me, being an artist is something I live 24/7. As an artist, and given the way my neurodivergence manifests, I am often an observer. At parties, I witness others engaging in the party environment and wouldn’t describe myself as an active participant. At the very least, I seek out those I click with, which, of course, is normal.
I have had to let go of the ambition to be a consistently paid, full-time artist and just "settle" for being an artist whose chosen medium is paint, who paints and sells work occasionally when it finds its audience. I think it is explained beautifully here: if we stay true to our creative integrity, then people will come along and the money will follow as a byproduct. It's just so easy to become despondent when you’re not entirely sure what factors bring about sales. Instead, I am learning to accept my limits, including my limited energy, the fatigue I feel, and the fact that my hand is currently healing from a repetitive strain injury.
Reel explaining to let it go and not chase the money is here
As soon as I let go of any specific outcome, I may have been commissioned to take on a large project. These opportunities seem to arise only every few years, and I am excited to share this with you if it comes to fruition. Most of the time, however, I am a martyr to the craft, spending more on art supplies than I make and making myself poor—a self-fulfilling prophecy creating the starving artist outcome. Therefore, my philosophy and the way I manage any money I make from art needs to change. For the most part, however, I paint because I'm obsessed, and it gives my life meaning. Without art, what am I? It’s a scary thought to rely on art, or anything for that matter, to be my identity. Are we our values, or the things we do, or a bit of both?
Recently, I have made some significant decisions about my approach to art and life. I quit hustling and trying to bend the universe to my will. Instead of forcing things, I’ve decided to simply be and not constantly do. I quit chasing algorithms and trends, trying to sell or gain fame through methods that don’t align with my heart. Authenticity matters more than any formula for success.
Yet, I also quit dismissing opportunities by saying, “That’s not for me” or “That’s not my style.” If an opportunity excites me, I will find a way to make it work, even if it’s a challenge. This new perspective could lead to some of my best work from finding it challenging. I quit labeling myself as too old to still be a hobbyist artist(and dropped the labels of professional vs amateur) or defining my professionalism by the money I make.
I’ve quit the constant pressure of social media, choosing instead to share when I have something meaningful to say. I’ve quit worrying about visibility or doing things the “right” way. The truth is, I am still here, still creating art (even using opposite hand while other heals - commission i’ll have to use dominant hand again). I notice things from observing my subjects, seeing angles and light hitting objects differently. This deeper observation enriches my work and my life.
Taking care of my health, resting, slower pace, and not worrying about being enough or doing enough are now my priorities. I gain energy when I am in the flow, and I have none when I am not. As I approach a crossroads and a new chapter at 37, I realize I need more space for my art, both physically and publicly. My work should be seen and enjoyed, not hidden away at home.
I want my art to spark conversations and provide heartfelt connections. My dream is for my exhibitions to be vibrant events with music, spoken word, and performances, celebrating human creativity. I want to move away from the sterile white walls of traditional galleries and create immersive experiences that flood the senses. While this might be a tangent, it’s a vision driven by my ADHD brain dump.
What is life about? I wish to flow naturally through life, grounded and in tune with my abilities. Yet, I often wonder how to keep up and find my purpose, especially when I feel tired, perhaps due to my living situation. If you’re curious about my journey, subscribe to my YouTube channel. I don't post weekly anymore, but I share behind-the-scenes content and progress shots when there's something worth documenting.
I hope this inspires or comforts those on their own art journey who are also wondering if it’s possible. Can we manage success if it happens? Know that you are not alone in these thoughts.
