Where I Am

I sat in their house on New Years Eve and took it all in. The family, the energy, the drive and excitement in learning. Alistair particularly made an impression on me. To see someone so unique from such a young age come into his own and be among his own now that he is at Oxford as a top student. He keeps to his room and studies and loves it. He will achieve great things I do not doubt. And there is a feeling in the air of this life of his and all the magical potential amidst the adventure of learning and at one of the top universities in the world.

I am left feeling and wondering. Feeling the same sense of excitement at the newness of it all. The sense that anything can be achieved and any goal reached if one works hard enough. It is very attractive. I was still at that point just before having children. Now I have put aside my limitless goals to focus on small attainable ones for the moment.

Suddenly it seems that anything can be achieved with just the right amount of dedication and hard work and that the process and journey can be fun. Should I have tried to go to Oxford and study law? It looks so attractive. But would I not have been miserable and left? The magic that I feel from Alistair is the magic that I felt going to art school and then doing my Masters of Arts in London. It is the sense one exudes when they are exactly where they are meant to be.

Career Suicide

I may have already committed career suicide in so many ways by simply being who I am in my given situation. Let's see. I am a woman. I have a strange sounding foreign last name. I am not a celebrity, child of a celebrity, an heiress, or person of great privilege or background. I am a mother. In my opinion, I tend to straddle a fine line between cheesy and non-cheesy commercial art. I find myself currently unable to spend any time in my studio due to the responsibilities of two little people. I am yearning to be back there, to be marketing work, and to be exhibiting. These are my circumstances. If I can manage to ignore the mainstream art scene of success (the huge commercial galleries, the prominent art fairs, etc) the more I can be true to the work I want to do.

This security in who I am and what I am doing is fleeting. It is easier said than done. I don't hold onto this particular security with any experience or control. I speak with other artists at length for reassurance that I can make it through this early parenting phase. I debate endlessly with any interested artist the best methods of career and marketing in the visual arts. I wonder if I am fading into obscurity (although I am not sure I ever rose out of it). Am I stuck in a commercial rut just getting older and never any better?

I watched To Walk Invisible tonight about the Bronte sisters and their difficult road to success with writing when woman did not even have a chance to be taken seriously intellectually. It is an inspiring reminder of my inner drive that is never fully quenched even in times of drought and doubt. To keep going and never believe the reality that I may have indeed committed career suicide by simply being me and being in my current situation is ultimately what I strive for. Along with success in creating better and better work.