A number of years ago I accepted a position teaching language arts, giving up my position as the visual arts instructor. My B.S. Ed. is in language arts and social sciences, so this was not a crazy move for me or my administration. I love teaching literature for the same reason I loved teaching art history. I want students to make connections between novels and the world they live in. I am given freedom to deliver content however I wish, allowing me to be highly creative in how I present topics that are, historically, boring. An example is the metaphor I use for teaching how to analyze and diagram a sentence. I also work with an educational non-profit, creating programs that engage all types of learners. These programs are based in visual art and music in how the content is delivered to the participants. Creating curricula allows me to keep my brain fresh and challenged, but I miss making art myself.
Classroom administration and keeping my household running take precedence. My salary and benefits keep us afloat. For many years, I tried to sell my art in a variety of venues and portals. In general, unless you have been "discovered," which won't happen without an art degree, the general public doesn't want to pay what my time and product are worth. I chose not to "give it away" by offering garage sale prices, which is basically what people wanted. They don't think about the cost of the materials, the time/effort involved, and the knowledge that goes into creating a work of art. It was too much effort for not enough ROI. With the availability of web-based commerce, I may dip my foot in the pool in the future, but not now.
I've tried to keep my hand in the art world by going smaller. I can finish a piece in less time and put away the materials so that we still have a place to eat. I went from having a fabulous studio to having a corner of the living/dining room area. I won't deny that I miss my studio. I always had multiple pieces in the works because I had the space to do so. Before returning to teaching full time, I was diligent about formalizing my career as an artist. In the art world, the student is trained to analyze what his/her/their current work is about. A series should be accompanied by a statement that explains to collectors what phase of development the artist is in currently, how that series fits into her larger body of work, and what it says to the viewer. In other words, why am I making these pieces? What's the point? Where am I in my journey as an artist? I was dutiful in keeping up with my artist statements years ago. But when I moved positions, I stopped. I'm not even sure where they are right now.
This summer, I committed to keeping my schoolwork to a minimum so as to alleviate the significant stress I endured the last couple of years. One result has been the ability to spend time with my art again. As I let the colors and images develop on the 4X6 paper, I have no artist's statement. I notice that figurative imagery develops in these small vignettes, as it always has in my abstract work, but I do not know who these figures represent, nor what they mean.
The more I allow my creative energy to flow, the more I create. As I have been writing these blog posts and painting, a novel idea that has been hazily wafting around in my consciousness is beginning to take shape. I have put words on the screen, and I have three strong characters speaking clearly. I know what this book is about, at long last. The protagonist has been hanging around in my head for years, but I never knew what her story was. Now I do.
What is my art about? It is the key to what I have been keeping locked away as I pigeon-holed myself into a shape that I thought I was supposed to be. I can be both an artist and a teacher, if I choose carefully how I spend my minutes, hours, and days.
School for me begins in about two weeks. I'm uncertain if I will be able to maintain my current artistic practices and my daily writing regimen. What I won't do is put pressure on myself to "do it all". I've tried that. I'm the kind of personality that will work until I collapse, making sure everything is done. I will do what I can, when I can, and not feel I am failing. Most importantly, I will work at trusting the process - something I preach religiously to my students. My artist's statement? "Trust the process."
~with deepest gratitude to Chery Baird.
Classroom administration and keeping my household running take precedence. My salary and benefits keep us afloat. For many years, I tried to sell my art in a variety of venues and portals. In general, unless you have been "discovered," which won't happen without an art degree, the general public doesn't want to pay what my time and product are worth. I chose not to "give it away" by offering garage sale prices, which is basically what people wanted. They don't think about the cost of the materials, the time/effort involved, and the knowledge that goes into creating a work of art. It was too much effort for not enough ROI. With the availability of web-based commerce, I may dip my foot in the pool in the future, but not now.
I've tried to keep my hand in the art world by going smaller. I can finish a piece in less time and put away the materials so that we still have a place to eat. I went from having a fabulous studio to having a corner of the living/dining room area. I won't deny that I miss my studio. I always had multiple pieces in the works because I had the space to do so. Before returning to teaching full time, I was diligent about formalizing my career as an artist. In the art world, the student is trained to analyze what his/her/their current work is about. A series should be accompanied by a statement that explains to collectors what phase of development the artist is in currently, how that series fits into her larger body of work, and what it says to the viewer. In other words, why am I making these pieces? What's the point? Where am I in my journey as an artist? I was dutiful in keeping up with my artist statements years ago. But when I moved positions, I stopped. I'm not even sure where they are right now.
This summer, I committed to keeping my schoolwork to a minimum so as to alleviate the significant stress I endured the last couple of years. One result has been the ability to spend time with my art again. As I let the colors and images develop on the 4X6 paper, I have no artist's statement. I notice that figurative imagery develops in these small vignettes, as it always has in my abstract work, but I do not know who these figures represent, nor what they mean.
The more I allow my creative energy to flow, the more I create. As I have been writing these blog posts and painting, a novel idea that has been hazily wafting around in my consciousness is beginning to take shape. I have put words on the screen, and I have three strong characters speaking clearly. I know what this book is about, at long last. The protagonist has been hanging around in my head for years, but I never knew what her story was. Now I do.
What is my art about? It is the key to what I have been keeping locked away as I pigeon-holed myself into a shape that I thought I was supposed to be. I can be both an artist and a teacher, if I choose carefully how I spend my minutes, hours, and days.
School for me begins in about two weeks. I'm uncertain if I will be able to maintain my current artistic practices and my daily writing regimen. What I won't do is put pressure on myself to "do it all". I've tried that. I'm the kind of personality that will work until I collapse, making sure everything is done. I will do what I can, when I can, and not feel I am failing. Most importantly, I will work at trusting the process - something I preach religiously to my students. My artist's statement? "Trust the process."
~with deepest gratitude to Chery Baird.