I always enjoyed creating but assumed everyone else felt the same way. I've never gone without a meal, my parents love each other and me, no abuse - verbal/physical/sexual, no bus accident rendering me infertile, no alcohol/prescription/illegal drug addictions...I worship my bra, I don't like enormous sculptural paper jewelry poking me, or hand dyed fabrics, or patchouli...I have opinions on politics but I don't march and I think lots of political art is redundant and the people who should be reading it never will, I hate indie music, I do have anxiety but it doesn't seem to be the art-making kind...the list goes on.
I have a degree in art education because my high school theatre teacher told me that I was special. Not in the 90's "everyone's special" kind of way, in that she gave me huge creative responsibilities (like designing, choosing supplies, working a budget, shopping, and creating a faux 6x8' stained glass window for the abbey in The Sound of Music) while I was in school and she hired me to execute her plans after I had graduated - and gone to college to be a math teacher. Yes, I was super great at math- no humble brag- I was just awesome- like 120% average awesome- yes, over 100%. I always wanted to be a teacher and when it came down to what I should teach I thought the answer was pretty clear. There was a tug toward theatre tech, and interior design, BUT the practical, make-society-happy answer was - teach. And teach math because you will always be needed- and your loans will be forgiven. Oddly enough, I always thought peer pressure was lame, but there I was letting the world as a whole decide my future. Ah, youth. Fast forward, fail two calc classes and feel lost. Not lost enough to consider myself an artist...I didn't get kicked out of school, just took a minute to question my future. No biggie when you're 19.
So, I go back to do scenic design and teach tech for the summer with my theatre teacher. I don't remember how we were alone when there were typically 150 kids running around, but we sat down to chat about the production and she just stopped and said, "You are an artist. You don't have to teach. If you want to teach, teach art. You are very good. Don't waste it." And I listened. Not because I suddenly believed I was an artist, because I trust teachers.
Side note: My middle school art teacher said, "don't do it," but her brother, one of my favorite math teachers said, "My sister said that?! I'm going to kick her ass!" So, I can only assume my art teacher got beat up, and I got a degree in art education so it wouldn't be for nothing ;)
Still, even after being pregnant in college and having half of our family deny it, applying to 100s of jobs in education and receiving only three rejections and the rest being ignored, moving a million miles from home, selling my favorite car, moving back from the place that I had fallen in love with to a place that I just don't fit... I didn't have the inspiration. That spiteful drive that we're told it takes to be a great artist.
I create and I am happy. But I can't be an artist, I don't do drugs or hate life. Inspiration never hits. When I am rejected I just say, "meh, that wasn't meant for me," instead of "I'll show them!" Yet all the while, any time I hear someone say they can't do art...I tell them they can. I fully believe and preach that anyone can be good, it just takes practice.
This is another place where what I believe, how I act, and how society views artists is conflicting. I am always telling people - begging - people to make, to do, to create. We are artists, lawyers, chefs, waitresses...but the world seems to believe that the arts are just inherent. That artists are just naturally talented and full of inspiration while non-artists just do other stuff. And! The other stuff takes education, experience, discipline, and practice...while art, somehow, has gotten the label of not needing education, experience, discipline, and practice. But it does. And that's the struggle bus that I'm driving.
I recently read the first few chapters of Grit. That's right, the first few chapters. I haven't made it to the self-help part. There was a grit test early on. You answer questions and add up your score, like a teen magazine but instead of deciding between marrying Jonathan Taylor Thomas and Jonathan Brandis, you learn just how gritty you are.
I scored below the low score.
Below the lowest score. Below it. Not only am I not gritty enough to keep up a weekly blog, but I'm not gritty enough to pull a dandelion from my yard. I'm used to scoring low in obscure places like my blood pressure so it wasn't a huge surprise. Also, I'm not gritty, so it didn't hurt my feelings. But why? I'm afraid to ask this question because as society would say, "because you've never struggled for anything." Which is true...but why do I have to have pain to create? Does no one create with joy? Are adults all miserable and want to stare at misery in a museum? Can't I be inspired by something beautiful just because it's beautiful?
According to the not-so-many pages I read, that is exactly the problem. I'm sitting around waiting for inspiration. Waiting for some big idea that will connect to the hearts of the masses, overthrow the government, and save the sea turtles in one brush stroke.
But that's not a thing.
It takes grit. It takes practice. It takes education, experience, discipline, and more practice. Every. Damn. Day. Can anyone create? Absolutely. Can anyone be struck by inspiration? Of course, that's why we have $15 specialty avocado slicers. But to hold the title, to call myself an artist, I have to actually DO what I'm always telling my friends and students and my own kids.
I don't need LSD, I don't need hate or pain, I don't need kerchief dresses and Birkenstocks, I don't need to be a pretentious asshole, I don't need to make up stories about an orange rectangle (okay, I do hate one thing, Rothko, feel free to send hate mail, no shame, he sucks). I don't have to be in society's art box.
I do need to stop being lazy, I need to set a social media timer, I need to create a creating schedule and a space, I need to work hard every day even if I don't want to, I need to stop making excuses, stop being entitled. I have an amazing opportunity to stay home this year. My husband supports me not only financially- sweet! - but he believes in me as an artist. He, my parents, friends, and family have never looked at me through society's artist lens...they've always looked at me as an individual, creative human being.
Maybe this year, I will, too.*
*but, like, according to the Grit test, I totally won't do anything 😃
This is another place where what I believe, how I act, and how society views artists is conflicting. I am always telling people - begging - people to make, to do, to create. We are artists, lawyers, chefs, waitresses...but the world seems to believe that the arts are just inherent. That artists are just naturally talented and full of inspiration while non-artists just do other stuff. And! The other stuff takes education, experience, discipline, and practice...while art, somehow, has gotten the label of not needing education, experience, discipline, and practice. But it does. And that's the struggle bus that I'm driving.
I recently read the first few chapters of Grit. That's right, the first few chapters. I haven't made it to the self-help part. There was a grit test early on. You answer questions and add up your score, like a teen magazine but instead of deciding between marrying Jonathan Taylor Thomas and Jonathan Brandis, you learn just how gritty you are.
I scored below the low score.
Below the lowest score. Below it. Not only am I not gritty enough to keep up a weekly blog, but I'm not gritty enough to pull a dandelion from my yard. I'm used to scoring low in obscure places like my blood pressure so it wasn't a huge surprise. Also, I'm not gritty, so it didn't hurt my feelings. But why? I'm afraid to ask this question because as society would say, "because you've never struggled for anything." Which is true...but why do I have to have pain to create? Does no one create with joy? Are adults all miserable and want to stare at misery in a museum? Can't I be inspired by something beautiful just because it's beautiful?
According to the not-so-many pages I read, that is exactly the problem. I'm sitting around waiting for inspiration. Waiting for some big idea that will connect to the hearts of the masses, overthrow the government, and save the sea turtles in one brush stroke.
But that's not a thing.
It takes grit. It takes practice. It takes education, experience, discipline, and more practice. Every. Damn. Day. Can anyone create? Absolutely. Can anyone be struck by inspiration? Of course, that's why we have $15 specialty avocado slicers. But to hold the title, to call myself an artist, I have to actually DO what I'm always telling my friends and students and my own kids.
I don't need LSD, I don't need hate or pain, I don't need kerchief dresses and Birkenstocks, I don't need to be a pretentious asshole, I don't need to make up stories about an orange rectangle (okay, I do hate one thing, Rothko, feel free to send hate mail, no shame, he sucks). I don't have to be in society's art box.
I do need to stop being lazy, I need to set a social media timer, I need to create a creating schedule and a space, I need to work hard every day even if I don't want to, I need to stop making excuses, stop being entitled. I have an amazing opportunity to stay home this year. My husband supports me not only financially- sweet! - but he believes in me as an artist. He, my parents, friends, and family have never looked at me through society's artist lens...they've always looked at me as an individual, creative human being.
Maybe this year, I will, too.*
*but, like, according to the Grit test, I totally won't do anything 😃
Prompt!
Instead of me asking if you're inspired to work this week, I'll say: Answer at least one of these questions or make up your own question about self and society. Don't wait for inspiration. Sit down and do it.
Where do you conflict with yourself? Are there any societal labels that you're embarrassed by or cautious to share? Have you overcome your conflicted self? Has someone expected more or less of you based on an assumption? Why, as a whole, are we so interested in categorizing and stereotyping - even with personal evidence to the contrary?
Update: Right after posting I saw this awesome short: http://thepowerofideas.ideapod.com/exactly-society-kills-creativity-breathtaking-short-film/
Due Tuesday 😉
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