Blog

Over the years I’ve painted many scenes from the Tantramar Marsh, including numerous depictions of the old hay barns that once dotted the whole area but have now been reduced to just a small handful.  Luckily I took some photos back when there were still a fairly good number of them left standing, to jog my memory of what they looked like back in their ‘glory days’.  They were a big part of my growing up years, as I grew up right on their doorstep, so to speak.  

 

I actually thought I had done just about as many barn paintings as I could do, but after a recent review of old photos from my own stash and a few others gleaned from other local sources, I am now on a ‘barn kick’ once again. 

 

I recently completed this one, titled “HIGHMARSH BARNS AND BRIDGE”, with the century old Wheaton Covered Bridge visible in the background.  Also, I have sourced enough images and reference material for at least 4 more barn paintings.  So, the ‘good news’ is that there are more where this one came from, folks!   So enjoy this one, and stay tuned for the next  …      

 

Keep safe and enjoy art  … 

Sharon

 

 

Now that the New Year is upon us, my mind begins its annual tradition of looking back over the past year while at the same time thinking ahead to the coming 12 months.  What will be the same?  What will be different?  Will I succeed in fulfilling whatever goals I set for myself?  Or will I end the year feeling there was more I ‘could’ or ‘should’ have done? 

 

I guess the most obvious ‘takeaway’ from 2020 is just how deeply the Covid-19 Pandemic affected all of us, in both similar and very individualized personal ways.  From my own experience, hubby and I stayed at home more than ever, and basically avoided anything to do with gatherings of other people.  The term “Covid Hermits” comes to mind.

 

As for personal art goals for 2020, that concept quickly flew out the window with the onset of the Pandemic!  Feeling a bit despondent at first, with the restrictions imposed on us all, that overpowering sense of ‘aimless floating’ very gradually began to morph into the eventual dawning realization that I had more time to spend on thinking about and creating artwork!  

 

When the pandemic first hit, one of my first thoughts was that I would be out of luck for portrait commissions, thinking that people would be guarding their pennies with tight fists because nobody knew what would happen next. But I did a bit of advertising anyway, and managed to secure a handful of portrait commissions, for people and pets, and turned out an interesting variety of works for customers, as well as a satisfactory number of personal art projects. 

 

So, with last year’s lessons still fresh in my mind, and looking ahead with a mixture of somewhat hesitant optimism, I sat down today to compile a list of Art Goals & Ambitions for 2021.  The list includes such ideals as increasing productivity for both commissioned work and personal projects, increasing research for several historical art projects I’ve had in mind for some time, increasing my online presence, and researching more ideas for self-marketing.  Then of course there’s that matter of an instruction book on Coloured Pencil painting which I’ve been working at haphazardly for several years, and the ongoing challenge of developing more art-related products to sell at the local Craft Gallery. 

 

How many of these loose goals I’m actually able to accomplish over the coming 52 weeks remains to be seen, but at the very least, this time next year it will give me an actual ‘guide’ to use when I review whatever this year 2021 happens to throw our way.    

 

 

So, with those words now under my belt and off my chest, I turn to the current status of the Artist Trading Cards I mentioned over the past couple blog posts.  The first set of 6 are now completed, and are ready to start mailing out, 1 per week, to other participants in this project. 

 

Here’s how the finished sheet of 6 cards looked prior to their being cut apart into individual cards.  Each 2.5” x 3.5” image is an independent miniature painting, showcasing portions of larger paintings I’ve done, and they are identified on the back with painting title, signature, and a brief description of the meaning of each image.  The next 2 batches are ready to start.

 

So, until next week, 

Stay safe and enjoy art

Sharon

 

I read an article recently which made a strong case for counting Artists as ‘Workers’, pointing out that ‘making art’ is a form of ‘work’, despite the fact that we artists enjoy what we do and would do it even if it never sold or whether anyone else ever liked it. 

 

The premise put forth was that the work we do, as artists, does not receive the proper respect it deserves by today’s society, and we artists are not viewed as ‘skilled professionals’ in the same way that lawyers or even teachers are perceived.  The feeling seems to have evolved that ‘art and money do not mix’ -  artists should not expect to be appropriately compensated for our work, simply because what we do is seen as a ‘labour of love’. 

 

When we look back to earlier times, from the Medieval period into Renaissance times, the position of artists was quite different from what we experience today.  Most art was commissioned by wealthy patrons, and the artist painted what the patron wanted, using the materials which the patron requested.  This had the advantage that the artist knew ahead of time that they would be paid, but the trade-off was that they painted only what other people wanted to see. 

 

Over the centuries this ‘arrangement’ has morphed into what we have today.  Artists, for the most part, have the freedom to choose their own subject matter and materials, and are free to experiment as much as they wish.  The trade-off nowadays, however, is that we never know whether what we produce will ever sell, or if we will ever earn enough from our paintings to even pay for our materials.  This is a complete reversal of what our Medieval counterparts experienced.

 

Even our Income Tax rules make special allowances for artists, by allowing us to end the year with zero closing inventory and start from scratch again the next year.  We don’t have to carry over ‘unused’ materials inventory from one year to the next, as other businesses do.  In short, it’s “accepted” that artists are ‘not expected to make a profit’.  It’s like a self-perpetuating assumption. 

 

The reality is that artists work just as hard at what we do as any other ‘profession’.  It seems we have been ‘conditioned’ to accept that our work does not have the same value as the output of other skilled professionals like chefs, home builders, landscapers, or clothing designers.  All of those individuals can realistically expect to receive a return on their time and efforts which enables them to earn a decent living. 

 

I’ve been an artist since I could hold a pencil, and my early experience was that my inborn ability was seen as a novelty of sorts  -  ‘isn’t that cute – she can draw.’  I ‘absorbed’ the assumption that making art was not something I could ever pursue in a serious way.  Instead, I was expected to fit into one of the ‘big three’ occupations acceptable for my gender at the time - nurse, secretary, or teacher. I became a nurse. I never stopped making art, but it was seen as a ‘sideline’, a ‘hobby’. 

 

Young women nowadays have more freedom in setting life goals, and many choose to follow their artistic dreams, but they are still faced with the same reality that it is difficult, if not impossible, to truly earn a living solely from artwork.  Most have support from families, or spouses, or even secondary jobs, in order to pursue their ‘true calling’. 

 

I have belonged to several different artist groups, and one of the most common topics of discussion centers around how to price your work.  There are various approaches to doing this, yet no approach truly reflects the ‘true value’ of what we do.  We end up pricing our work according to ‘what the market will bear’.   Which many times barely covers the cost of our materials, let alone compensate for the hours spent on creating the finished product. 

 

So in effect, we artists allow others to decide what our work is worth.  If you hire a company to build a house for you, you expect to pay them a fair wage for the work they do.  ‘But’, you may say, ‘Houses are a ‘necessity’, while art is not’.  Jewellery is not a ‘necessity’ either, yet people don’t walk into a jewellery store and expect the clerk to charge them less than what that diamond ring is actually worth. 

 

Artists are skilled.  Artists produce work.  Artists have studied for most of their lives, in many cases – largely through experimentation, learning from others, close observation, and plain hard work to master whatever it is they do well.  So, artists ‘should’ be able to set a price for our work which reflects its true value.

 

--- ---

 

And now, here’s an update on the Artist Trading Cards I mentioned last week.  

 

Not designed as an ‘income earner’, but just as satisfying as any other work I’ve ever done, here’s the current status of the first sheet of 6 mini paintings.  As I mentioned before, each individual painting is 2.5” high and 3.5” wide, the same size as regular sports trading cards.

 

The compositions are all sketched in using a cool grey pencil, and the skies have been laid in and mostly finished. 

 

Next step will be to work on all the backgrounds, and then gradually complete all elements of each miniature painting.

 

This is a sort of ‘assembly-line’ work, which is not something I usually do, but the small size of these little gems lends itself particularly well to that approach.  Also, having chosen images which are related helps as well. 

 

Next time we’ll have another look, and you’ll be able to watch them evolve into finished works.

 

Until then, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, and I’ll be back with another blog post in 2 weeks time – on January 3. 

 

Stay safe and enjoy Art. 

 

Sharon    

 

 

 

It’s Sunday again, and while it’s not exactly raining like it was last week, we did have a few flurries overnight and today is very grey and foggy.  The week seemed to roll by very quickly, as does every week lately, it seems.  Perhaps it has to do with age, but also I’m thinking might be a side-effect of this Pandemic year.  After 9 months of this ‘cocooning’, life has become ‘smaller’ than it used to be.  We stay in our own little bubbles and pull life’s necessities in with us.  It’s a little like living a “Miniaturized life”.    

 

A couple days ago I got an email from a member of our local Art Society, wondering if members might be interested in creating and exchanging Artist Trading Cards.  Not familiar with that term, I turned to Google and discovered a venue I had not been keeping track of!   The cards are basically Miniature works of art traded with other artists. 

 

The concept began almost by accident in 1997, when Swiss artist Vancie Stirneman created 1200 cards as part of an exhibit. On the final day he invited others to do their own cards and trade with him.  That idea spawned a movement, and today artists all over the world are creating and trading these little cards!  

 

There are only 2 rules when it comes to creating Artist Trading Cards  …

     1.  Cards must be exactly 2.5” x 3.5”   …   the size of sports trading cards.

     2.  Artists must comply with Copyright Laws …  as with any other work of art.

 

Initially the cards were destined for trading only  - no money was to change hands.  Entrepreneurship being what it is, however, it wasn’t long before someone saw a marketing opportunity and began offering the little cards for sale, and today there is a world-wide market for these Miniature paintings.

 

I am not new to painting Miniatures.  A few years ago I did a series of Miniature oil paintings showing local scenes from the Tantramar Marsh, each one permanently mounted on a miniature easel for display.  Each painting was 2.5” x 2.5” square, and created using VERY small brushes especially designed for the task.  I sold all but two of them at the local Craft Gallery where I am a member. Then last month I had a request from a former customer wondering if I had any left, and she ended up purchasing the last two from that series. 

 

Those were fun to do, but quite time-consuming when you consider all the ‘wait time’ involved when working with oils.  I now plan to do another Miniature series next year, using faster-drying Acrylics instead of Oils, and I have a supply of mini stretched canvasses and easels just waiting to be pressed into service. 

 

In the meantime I shall try my hand at these Miniature Artist Trading Cards, using Coloured Pencils.  I designed a template to create a series of 6 cards on an 8.5 x 11” sheet of Bristol paper, and have the first sheet of paper affixed to the drawing board and gridded off with masking tape, just waiting for the first pencil strokes.  My goal is to recreate portions of 6 paintings of local Marsh scenes which I have previously done in larger sizes.  Next week they should be ready to show, at least partially completed.   

 

Normally Coloured Pencil paintings are framed with glass to protect the surface, so I will need to devise some method to protect the unframed cards. I have a few ideas in mind, but more about that next week.   

 

Till then, stay safe and enjoy art. 

 

It's Sunday afternoon, it's early December, it's rainy and dreary outside so we're not out for our 'usual' Sunday drive.  Sitting here chatting and 'surfing', with laptops on laps, biding our time until it's time to think about supper.  This pandemic has turned these two "over-70" seniors into real 'stay-at-homes', which hasn't really interfered with our lifestyle all that much, except for the fact that it's not 'our choice'.  

 

On a whim, I decided to check out some of my old blog posts, from when I was writing nearly every week, for several years.  I was a bit shocked to discover that my last blog post was dated Feb 2015.   And nothing since then.   It was a bit of a reality check, to realize that so much time had passed by so quickly!   It's been my experience that the older one gets, the faster time seems to pass, and I've come to the conclusion that it's a matter of perspective  -  with more years behind us now than ahead of us.   

 

That last posting in early 2015 was written around the time my dad's health began a serious decline, and together with 2 of my siblings who had also moved back home, we became increasingly involved in looking after his care. He passed away in September of 2016, and life took a few different twists following that.   

 

With more time on my hands again, my interest in community affairs renewed and I began attending monthly Town Council meetings to catch up with what was happening in my hometown.   With my mind free again to focus on my own needs, a casual relationship with an old friend blossomed into something more, and we've been a couple ever since.  Both of our families established in this area a couple centuries ago, and we share a common interest in delving into local issues and butting heads with some of our town decision makers when we find things not being done 'right'.  Our incentive is to see a better future for the community - we are both self-described 'fixers'.   

 

So, how have all those changes affected my artwork, you might wonder.   I guess one could say "quite a bit"  and  "not much at all", in the same breath.  There was a bit of a 'dry spell' while my dad was ill, though I never completely stopped creating  -  it's in my genetic code. I could no sooner stop being an artist any more than I could stop breathing.  For anyone who has read my earlier blog posts, back as far as 2012, this is who I have been for as long as I can remember, and I suspect I will probably die with a pencil or a brush in my hand.   

 

I continue to do pencil portraits for the local Sports Wall of Fame, which happens every two years, and I continue to take on private portrait commissions as well, for both pets and people.  I still find more subject matter to depict for my ongoing works depicting the nearby Tantramar Marsh, which was such a large part of my growing-up years.   I continue to experiment with techniques and approaches to improve my Coloured Pencil paintings, and I doubt I will ever tire of 'trying something new'  -  that also is in my genetic code.  

 

After this much elapsed time, over 5 years, it's time to get back to writing regular blog posts again  ...   I'm setting my goal at weekly, and we shall see how that goes.  

 

To get started this week, here's one of my recent Pet Portrait commissions which was completed in August.   The subject is a Golden Retriever, and my goal with this portrait was to emphasize the effects of the lighting on her coat and her features.  This was commissioned by a local man for his wife's birthday, and my understanding is that she was quite delighted with the surprise gift.  

 

So, that's it for this week  ...   stay tuned and we'll see what another week brings.  I thank you for reading this outflow of my rambling mind, and please stay safe everyone.  

 

 

 

I woke up one morning recently with a burning urge to dig out my pastels and do something with them.

 

To set a bit of background here, pastel is something I've played with sporadically over the years, but hadn't touched them in quite some time. My collection includes quite a number of various pastel sticks given to my by an old artist friend years ago when he was cleaning out his supplies to move into a nursing home – Ab Knight was his name, and he was truly one of my role-models. Then last year I acquired another batch of pastels which had belonged to another artist friend, Maxine Hughson, another long-time role-model and dear friend who had passed away a number of years ago as well. So my collection of lovely little sticks of colour had grown considerably, and I guess my subconscious was telling me it was time to do something with them. So I did.

Since I still had the photo from the previous project clipped to the drawing board, that seemed an appropriate place to start. Here is the result, done on a medium grey-brown toned Ingres pastel paper ... I leave it to the viewer to determine how successful it was, but I have to say I was pleased with both the process and the result.

 

This was an 'experiment' of sorts, but it also represents a 'change in pace' which I usually find I need every year about this time. When the work I've been doing starts to feel too “easy”, or too “pre-determined”, or too “predictable”, then it's time to tackle something different, with new challenges, at least for awhile. That seems to be the impetus I need to move forward into a new 'phase' with my artwork in general. Then when I return to my 'usual' work methods and mediums, there seems to be a new 'freshness' in what I do, which can be traced directly back to these little 'forays'.

Anyone who has followed my work over the past few years is well aware that the Tantramar Marsh has always been one of my favourite subjects, for several reasons.  First, you can stand in one spot, anywhere on the marsh, turn a 360 degree circle, and see potential paintings in every direction, for as far as the eye can see.   Second,  it is my 'place of peace'  -  I grew up not far from that wide expanse of flat land beneath that endless dome of sky,  and my visits home over the years always included a solitary drive out onto the marsh,  just to walk around for a bit and listen to the silence,  breathe in the freshness of the marsh breezes,  recharge my inner self.   And finally,  there's the history -  in addition to the facts of their usefullness over the years,  I have learned in later years that my great-grandfather and grandfather actually built a good number of those old barns, so I feel a personal connection with them.  

 

When I was a girl, back in the 1950s,  there were over 300 wooden hay barns dotting the Tantramar Marsh.  They were used to store the summer's bountiful hay crop, waiting for the haypress and later the baler to turn them into rectangular blocks of compressed hay which would then be carted back to the home barns to feed livestock over the winter.   With the advent of the modern balers, which churn out massive cylindrical bales right in the field, there was no longer any need for the barns, and they gradually began to weather away.  The decline speeded up over the years, until today there are just a small handful of barns left to be seen.  I drive out across the Highmarsh Road now and feel the haunting presence of those ghosts,  with all their stories forever stilled,  yet whispering their lessons on those ever-present breezes, for any who will hear.  

 

Back in the 1980s, by which time the barns had already been decimated and were continuing their rapid decline to nothingness,  I took some photos of those which were still left at that time,  all the while regretting that I had not thought to do that when I was young and they were still in their prime.  It was as though we all just took them for granted while they were in use,  not ever imagining that some day they would be gone and we would miss their presence. I have created numerous paintings of some of those old barns,  in their various states of decay, and recently decided to try my hand at 'visual time-travel', so to speak. 

 

This is my 2nd attempt to represent the Tantramar Marsh barns as they looked over a half century ago, when they were still in their prime.  I acquired several old photos which aided in the placement of this particular stretch of barns along the Highmarsh Road, but relied very heavily on memory to establish how they would have looked back then,  when I was a young girl with my nose pressed to the window in the back seat of our family car as we crossed that road so many times on our way back and forth from our home in Upper Sackville to our summer cottage on the Northumberland Strait.  I guess I always loved those old barns. 

 

It occurs to me that I haven't posted any additions to my blog recently  ...  so I guess it's time to play 'catchup'  ...  

I have been busy,  not just sitting around idly twiddling my thumbs  ...  

 

For starters, I was selected to do the pencil portraits for this year's inductees into our local Sackville Sports Wall of Fame.   Modelled after the provincial Sports Hall of Fame in our province's capital,  the Sports Wall was begun a quarter century ago, and records the many local sports personalities from our area.  Great individual and team successes have been captured for posterity up on the wall of portraits which adorns the mezannine viewing area at the local Tantramar Civic Center, which is home to many local sports organizations.  

 

This year there were 3 portraits to do  -   two singles, and a team comprised of 48 people.   The great unveiling took place last night amid pomp and ceremony and friendly camaraderie you can only find in a small town where most everyone is related to half the town  -  I fall into that category myself.  

 

Here are the 3 portraits I did for this year's induction ceremony: 

 

Barbara Campbell -  founded Sackville Swim Club

 

 

David Burns  -  football player and coach

 

1982 Tantramar Titans football team  -  won provincial championship 3 years in a row

 

These images will soon be added to the town's virtual sports wall on their website  -  http://sackville.com/community/sswf/exhibit/

 

 

Thanks for checking out my blog  ...  I'll try not to be absent for so long in the future  ... 

Sharon

 

This time of year I clearly feel the change in the amount of light, as the days shorten and the nights lengthen, my energy level dips lower and lower, until just getting dressed to go outside and shovel snow for a few minutes feels like I've run a full marathon. An hour working in my studio feels like four hours, at least. It's exhausting just getting through the day. I begin to wonder if there's something wrong with me.

 

It always seems to sneak up on me somehow ... I'll start feeling more and more 'draggy', and then suddenly it hits me that I've just about reached the end of my limits, and THEN I realize what the date is, and it all makes sense. I smile and shake my head, somewhat chagrined to realize I've been 'duped' yet again by dear old Mother Nature. The joke is on me. It's Solstice time again !

 

The Winter Solstice marks the 'shortest day of the year', which is Dec 21 this year, after which the days will begin to lengthen again. Today is Dec 18, 3 days until the actual Solstice, the longest night of the year. This is when the sun's path seems to 'stand still' for a few days on either side of that turning point, and I feel like I should also just be 'standing still'. The word 'solstice' is actually derived from a couple Latin terms, 'Sol' (sun), and 'Stice' (stand still).

 

So, from about Dec 17 until Dec 24, there is little or no discernable change in the amount of daylight we receive. It is the period of 'darkest days'. Then on Dec 25 the light actually starts to increase noticeably, a little more each day - and THAT is when moods also start to lift again. We rejoice - the light is returning again, it hasn't abandoned us after all.

 

For most of my life I've been able to 'work around' that sensitivity to the changing amount of daylight, to carry on as if every day in the year was the same. That's what we're conditioned to do by our very society, which tries to fit us all into the same shape and size, and tries to keep us all on the same schedule.

 

But I find as I get older it's increasingly difficult to do so. If anything, I seem to be getting even more sensitive to changes in the amount of sunlight, feeling very energetic during the longest sunniest summer days, and increasingly lethargic as we approach the winter solstice. I can easily see how some people become depressed at this time of year, or at least they call it depression. I tend to see it instead as a natural reaction to a natural phenomenon, which goes away when the days start to become longer again. I see it as a yearly ritual to be observed and celebrated. If I feel like secluding myself away for a few days of introspective thought and reflection, then that is what I need to be doing.

 

So what does this mean for the creative process? I can't speak for all artists of course, but for me, this time of year always feels like a 'winding down' period, time to 'clear the slate' to be ready to start on the next round, whatever that may turn out to be. It's a time of anticipated 'new beginnings', as we get ready to welcome a new calendar year as well. For me, the Solstice truly IS the beginning of the 'new year'.

 

It's a time for thinking, for getting in touch with inner feelings and perspectives, opening the mind for new ideas and new directions to present themselves. It's a time for just sitting still and reflecting on what it is that makes me want to paint in the first place.

 

It's a time for finishing up current projects, which is always a challenge for me - I tend to get ideas for 'the next one' shortly after I start a painting ... which leads to my tendency to have at least a handful of paintings on the go at any time. Two days ago I finished up an oil painting I started a couple weeks ago. At one time Oil was my main medium, but I really haven't done much with it over the past decade or so, having falling so deeply in love with Prismacolour pencils. Lately though I've been feeling that old 'oil itch' again, and so the tubes and brushes came out of hiding and once more they figure prominently in my daily activities.

 

The one I finished is a scene on the St John River, looking up-river, above Mactaquac.

 

AUTUMN ABOVE MACTAQUAC © Sharon L Hicks, 2013 ... oil ... 12 x 16

 

I already have done a study and a painting of this scene in Prismacolour pencils, so this oil painting completes that little 'trilogy', I guess. I'm happy enough with the way it turned out, though I can see where I really need to brush up on my old oil skills!! ... I expect I'll be spending a fair amount of time on the “old oils” for the next few months, and we'll see what I can accomplish with this time-tested medium ...

 

This will be my last blog post until after Christmas day, so I'll catch you then. Have a safe and happy holiday season, and I might have another painting or two to share with you next time.

 

Cheers

Sharon

JOLICURE BOUND © Sharon L Hicks, 2013   -  Prismacolour pencils

 

I've been reading a book lately which explores the mechanics of how we create, and which delves into certain ideas or mindsets which help to spur along the creative process. Reading and learning from this type of subject matter helps to forge connections in my mind which in turn allow me to carry on with this lifelong creative quest, without those nagging feelings that I 'should be doing something else' with my valuable time. The very fact that someone has taken the subject seriously enough to write an eye-opening book about Creativity is a small revelation in its own right. And it's not the only book ... there are scads of them out there ... now.

 

But that was not always the case. I was raised in a rural location, in the middle of the twentieth century - a time when it was considered just a 'cute amusement' that I could draw. There were no art classes in school. There were no 'real' artists around our farming community, that I knew of anyway. There was no easy access to suitable art materials or instruction. My drawing ability was never considered in any serious manner, or as anything particularly special, it was just 'something I could do'.

 

And so I never really took my 'artist' self seriously for a very long time, even though for as long as I could remember that was the first thing that would pop into my head if anyone should ask the child 'me' what I wanted to be when I grew up. I never 'stopped' drawing, and later painting, and I diligently studied and learned everything I could learn on my own, but it was always considered 'in my spare time'. The 'real work' of living had to come first, the art was always second, or even put on temporary hold at times.

 

And even later when I did start thinking more seriously about what I know at my core to be my 'true self', it was difficult to overcome the feelings that others had imposed during my formative years - I should do all my housework BEFORE I wasted time painting ... I should look after everything to do with my family BEFORE I wasted time painting ... I should focus my energy on working at a job BEFORE I wasted time painting ... Being an artist took a back seat to everything else in my life, for the better part of my life - being a wife, being a mother, being an employee, being a volunteer  ... the list is endless.

 

And then, three and a half years ago, that all changed. Corporate downsizing plunged me into 'early retirement', when the position I held was eliminated, and I was faced with the reality that nobody was eager to hire a woman nearing retirement age when there were so many other (younger) people out there competing for the same jobs. I became a statistic - divorced, then widowed, jobless, with no prospects for further employment. Sad, right?

 

The severance package bought me a little time to think things through, evaluate my situation, and come up with a course of action. Once the dust had settled and I'd had a bit of time to brush some of it off, it didn't take long before the proverbial light bulb flashed on. The company I had worked for had really done me a HUGE favour - I now had the time I'd always wanted to devote to the one passion in life which I'd carried inside me since I was a small girl - I could actually BE the artist I'd always wanted to be.

 

But in order to 'get there', I needed to make a huge pile of choices and changes, some of them really life-altering, some of them logical (to myself and to others), some of them rather selfish (as it appeared to others, though logical to me). I'll spare you the details, but here's the summary - a year later I was living back in my hometown, in a lovely little 1-bedroom 'granny suite' out in the country, with high ceilings and fabulous light.

 

From that point it became a matter of rearranging my thinking, trying to oust the old 'guilt' feelings of 'doing what I wanted to do' rather than 'what others expected me to do'. Two and a half years later I still struggle with that feeling at times, but I'm getting better at putting myself first. Also, since I started taking myself more seriously in this endeavour of creating art, my work has been taken more seriously.  I have my first solo exhibit under my belt. I've been sought out to teach classes, and also to teach a few workshops. I developed a fairly lucrative 'secondary' market selling prints and note-cards based on some of my local paintings.

 

The point of this post is just to say that everything we do in life, including the practice of being an artist, is based on decisions we make. Choices we make. Even a failure is the result of a choice we've made, and rather than lament about failing we can learn a lesson about what choices not to make in the future.

 

Even though I suffer from a few health issues which slow me down at times, I smile every day when I drag myself out of bed, because I'm living the life I WANT, rather than trying to fit into someone else's idea of what my life 'should be'. It's a very liberating feeling. It's a MINDSET.

 

Mindset is the driving force behind everything we do in life. When I need to make a decision now, my first thought is 'how will it affect my art?' If an activity, for example, will tie up too much of my valuable painting time, I'm inclined to pass on it, unless it's something I'm REALLY interested in, and then it might be worth the time away from creating. The point is, I evaluate things first, before reaching a decision.

 

This  'Artist Mindset' has become deeply entrenched in my everyday life, and I fully expect it will continue to rule my world for the rest of whatever time I might have in this life. It feels 'natural' for me, and that is good.