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Pessimistic Dagger #1

When I was a teenager thinking about career possibilities, I bought in to the idea that art was not an actual profession. It was more a lifestyle characteristic of gypsies and dreamers than of persons who lived a life of success and excess.

Optimistic Carrot #1

While secretly trying to fit in to the “norm” I spent hours in my bedroom listening to music and drawing--people from magazines, my cat, the trees out my window, whatever was near--and creating elaborate designs on any scrap of paper I could find. Much to my parent’s dismay, I was already becoming pigeon-holed as a dreamer. I took all the classes that were required of me, but let me choose my own elective, and you would find me in an art class. I didn’t go out for sports or join clubs. I didn’t take well to structure and rules. I hated high school and barely passed.

Pessimistic Dagger #2

Just out of high school I was hanging at the beach, listening to music, drawing and writing. I had a surfer friend I had met 3 years earlier who was an artist. I thought the world of him, mostly because he was so good at drawing! I asked if I could show him some of my artwork. He politely looked at my work and bluntly said, “Stick to your writing.” I was crushed and put away my art supplies.

Optimistic Carrot #2

Still classified as a rebel/gypsy/dreamer by my family I decided to go to college and major in music. I took all the classes that were required of me, but let me choose my elective, and you found me, once again, in the art department. I still didn’t go out for sports or join any clubs. I was getting Bs in music, and As in art. I discovered that if one was to major in music, they had to take a lot of math(!!!). If one was to major in art, they got to go outside and draw stuff. Finally, I went up to my art teacher and asked the BIG question. “Do I have what it takes to be an artist?” He said I had “potential!” That was all I needed. I changed my major, graduated with a Bachelor’s Degree, carried a 3.9 GPA, and specialized in figure drawing.

Pessimistic Dagger #3 (Self inflicted)

I had to support myself. I thought that if I got a job doing art, it would take the pleasure out of doing it. I went into graphic design. I hated structure and rules so I started my own company. I was raising my son and working full time. I never had time to draw. So much for idealism.

Optimistic Carrot #3

My ultimate dream was to move to the mountains and be a painter. I accomplished half the dream when I moved to the mountains in 2002. It took me 6 years to purchase property, build a cabin, and settle in. In 2008 I began to realize the other half of my dream when I ran across a pastel painting that woke me from my stupor. I found the woman who painted it and started taking classes. I started doing pastel landscapes but was not happy until I returned to my first love… the figure. In 2010, I began painting in oil.

The time spent doing what others expect of us robs us of our life force and steals years from our learning and growth as artists.

I love teaching classical art classes to young adults. I don’t want them to plod through their lives and give up on their dreams.  If that dream is to become a working artist, they need to know, like anything, it will take dedication and hard work, but it is not an unrealistic goal. Of course, knowing how to market their art will be important, but above all, they need the desire to create, because technique can be learned and content will come from their life experiences.