After a very long, tiring day, I was standing in the kitchen clearing dishes from the table when my husband handed me a magazine he picked up at work. "I saw this and thought of you". It was an art magazine. "Oh cool!" I actually was a little excited but then surprised myself, "I forgot that I was an artist at one time." It was a thought that became audible and I stood still for a minute, as if in shock.
It's true...that it had been a long year without art. I had made some paintings and showed them at a local gallery earlier this year. But it felt like a weak attempt. It wasn't my best work. It didn't even feel like...me. At the show, I saw the people pass right over them as if the paintings were telling them "We are a half-assed attempt to hold onto a hopeless career. Move along."
Life gets messy though. It gets busy and complicated. Real life and all it's hardships rush in and drowned creative thought. Well, at least in my situation it did. Depression had sunk in after a long time of feeling sick and tired of being sick and tired. The doctors were looking at me as if I was crazy. Hell, it was the same look I gave myself in the mirror! Who could blame them? When they finally announced that it was "cancer" I actually felt relieved. I know, it sounds even more nuts but diagnoses meant that meant I wasn't crazy, right?
For years I struggled with the idea of my art actually being my "career" and was constantly taking it in and out of that box until just a few years ago when I finally made the commitment and felt that I was actually going somewhere with it. Little did I know that I was headed for a dead end. Even more unfortunate, instead of taking my art out of the "career box" and placing it back into the "hobby box" I just completely abandoned it. Art was my therapy and during these hard times I could have used it the most. Why did I let it go?
After the hysterectomy things were going to get better. I missed Christmas but I didn't really care. I had a fun side job as a sign artist and I was getting back into painting and showing again. I even sold a few (which seems rare in this economy).
Only months later, the water level started rising again. Everything from financial issues, to problems with the kids at school and, once again, my health were contributing. It really came down to the fact that there weren’t enough hours in the day. This part-time sign job was turning into a lot of overtime and weekends away from home and I was barely making any signs since they kept shifting me to another department. My youngest son, who was diagnosed with an autism spectrum disorder, was struggling in school and was crying for my help. He didn't want to go to school and he was acting out violently at home. At the time, I didn't know what was going on. I had some other leads on art jobs that ended up falling through after I put a lot of time into them. My house was a disaster, my marriage was struggling and I was feeling sick and tired all over again. Needless to say, the pulse of my creativity was faint and even though it crossed my mind several times I never put any effort into reviving it. It's kind of a blur. I don't even know at what moment I gave up on the art but it almost seemed selfish to continue with it, wasting time and money on a dead end career.
Here it is, nearly a year later. I am once again faced with Christmas and I'm healing from another yet another surgery. This time I will actually be able to participate in the festivities though. I really don't like Christmas much, all the rushing around, spending tons of money, dealing with hoards of crowds. I do however, like the small traditions that our family has created with the kiddos. I'm glad I'll get to participate in that. I am also faced with something else. I am and always will be an artist, no matter how well my career went, how much money I made from it or even how frequently I painted. It's something that's IN me, rather...a part of me. I can feel it wanting to start up again. This time instead of an exciting and eager feeling of wanting to jump right into it, it feels more like tears welling up that I can't hold back. I guess it's time for some therapy again.
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