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.