artisticsoul

I may have an answer at least to what I can do right now to make more money and get back into the swing of life.. It is working for my old employer of two years ago and it may mean that I can go back to school, or take some classes to improve my computer art and see if that is what i really want to do eventually. The hours are great and the atmosphere seems almer than I am used to. Crossing my fingers I get the job.

This was such an amazing experience. Even on a small scale level, I learned so much. I had the opportunity to do the storyboarding for this independent short film, ran errands( a gopher..haha), make-up, and had a blast talking with the three actors starring in the film. They were all so down to earth and the cast and crew clicked amazingly well. The cast is super-talented and witty as hell, too! The shooting was on time, minimal technical difficulties, and we were pretty much on schedul, which apparently, is a big feat as told by our actors. The producer remarked it was truly the smoothest run he had ever been on. This project was two years in the making and at times I wondered if they could really pull it off, but now i have no doubts about any abilities whatsoever. I am so inspired personally and professionally!

I have always had a guilty relationship with my art. A strange mixture of wanting to do it and not wanting to do it. As a child I remember drawing all the time; unicorns and princesses and mystical lands in which I wanted to live. I had art lessons starting at age 11 and continued throughout high school while also taking art classes in school and scholarship-driven weekend classes at Moore College of Art and Design in Philadelphia. I remember feeling torn in wanting to make a social life and give time to my art since both required a lot of attention. And with art, it is truly a solo effort no matter if you are doing it with other friends. I also had great fear in not being good enough, talented enough..capable enough. And I just didn’t always want to put the time in, unlike my other “art friends” who were guzzling all things art. And I suffered tremendous guilt because of my feelings of “I should sketch every day, study this particular artist, go to this school..”. I graduated from college with what I believe is an undeserved art degree..I did just enough to get by but not enough to truly push myself to limits that would have made me grow as an artist. I grew here and there, but I was such a perfectionist, and fear has dominated my life in so many facets that this was no exception. I have been tortured by my guilt for so many years, that it has almost made me paralyzed in not doing it. I worked non-art jobs and on the side have done my share of portraits and murals; posters and painted furniture..but never quite felt as if my flame was truly lit. And feeling oh so guilty because of these feelings. I sometimes don’t even like to think of myself as an artist because I am unsure if i deserve that title, especially when i have not made it my career. Fast forward to two weeks ago. My boyfriend and I were in Red Bank and walked into a community art gallery. The work was okay; nothing amazing, nothing horrible. As I neared the front desk to talk to the woman sitting there, I was greeted by a combined mixture of nostalgic scents..turpentine, oil paint, musty art studio. For those few moments, I was an art student again, with no worries about how much i did my art, or how little. Paying bills, making a living, dealing with the mundane day to day atrocities were not part of the equation of trying to capture the curve of a thigh, thickness of a shadow, the perspective in a landscape. And all of a sudden I felt this longing that had not been felt since I can remember. In those few moments I felt a knot in my stomach, and my eyes welled up as i strolled through the pices of art and wondered why I never realized that maybe ..just maybe..after all these years..I was the jury that needed convincing. That maybe it was okay for me to do my art when the mood struck, and that I was, after all, still an artist even if I didn’t make it my career, or live, sleep, and breathe it. I have tortured myself with what I thought an artist should be instead of just being one.