September bonus: why I'm not just "an artist with a day job"

but I'm a better artist BECAUSE of my day jobs

let me just start with:

1. this is how i operate at this moment, where I’m at in my life internally and externally. i do not see this as who i am or who i need to be forever and am open and curious ALWAYS in my practice. tomorrow i could decide to be a full time artist. well, probably not tomorrow, but you get the idea…

2. this is not a prescription for others. i’d be happy to hear if this resonates with you or if it doesn’t. i love that all of us are built differently. this is my experience and something i want to write about because i didn’t see anyone else talking about it.

I’M REALLY PROUD OF MY DAY JOBS!!!!

i’m proud i worked at a thrift store. i’m proud that i worked at Starbucks. i’m proud that i moved to a local coffee shop. i’m proud i took off three months of work to prepare for my art show and get in tune with myself and my relationships. i’m proud i’ve been house sitting, house cleaning, washing dishes or serving at the local cafe, and learning stained glass. AND NOW, despite what i never expected, i will be returning to Starbucks. back to “the man”. back to that nine to five - or for us openers back to that 4:30 AM to 12:30.

while i was in college for art (I dropped out), I remember two specific professors pushing, pushing, pushing that to be an artist meant being a full-time artist. No nuance, no exceptions. I love full-time artists. My heart fills with joy that others are able to financially, emotionally, and mentally sustain themselves through their art solely. SHOUT OUT TO YOU!!

My pushback is that it’s the only way or that it’s the better way.

There is no better way. All are good ways - or have the potential to be good ways.

It’s scary realizing: it’s actually up to you. It’s not up to your parents, your teachers, your students, your former bosses, your current boss, your partner(s), your kids. You can start off by just imagining it. Imagine the way you would thrive … what would change? What would you say?

-on my break at Starbucks, someone visited me to make origami cranes to push through the long day-

So when I left school and decided to work at a thrift store, I had yet to imagine what this would be. I was excited, because I’ve always enjoyed the symbolism of lost & found; the thrift store was full of meaning. I was shy to admit where I worked, to be met with either “You’re wasting your gift.” or “I thought you wanted to be an artist?” or, or, or…

strung beads at a friend's house, upcycled dress with found fabric, always mailing letters

Not only did my art practice continue while I worked, it thrived!!! It shifted, yes, but was healthy and full and just enough. I recognize the privilege I have to say this- not everyone can work and have the time/energy/space to create. I am eternally grateful this was my situation. Even on trips away from home/studio, I would find ways to draw in the dirt to photograph, or collect rocks to assemble into a composition.

Everywhere I have worked has been filled with: story.

And what is my art if not my story?

Talking with customers, getting to know colleagues, and investing in community has filled me with an abundance of stories. This makes me a better person. My compassion, empathy, and understanding grows. I believe when we are open to it, empathy and imagination can be linked.

I felt my imagination grow and grow. The colors of the thrift store, the smells of the coffee, the rude customers that made me chuckle, the colleagues I have loved, the solitude some jobs bring, the times I’ve been thanked, the times I’ve been ignored … I was filled to the brim with emotions / experiences. I felt connected to something larger than myself. I would crave to be in the studio, and once I got there, I had usually decided what I wanted to work on.

thrift store coworker Ms Lori when I said "you look like an angel!", working for a local artist learning to dye, and my 2020 home studio

I’m thankful I’ve been able to take some time off in between jobs. HoWeVeR, It’s put a pressure on my work that I don’t want right now. I want my work to feel as far from a commodity as it can. Most times, I hate even asking for money. Not because it isn’t worth the money, but because it doesn’t feel like an object to me - they’re pieces of me I offer and surrender into the world.

I have chosen to orient my life around making art and being creative.

I also hold other jobs that bring in paychecks.

I love how both can be true.

I don’t want to spend my life justifying if what I make is art, or if I am an artist, I want to spend my life doing and being at peace. What others cast on me with their definitions or expectations is not mine to monitor.

listening to violins by the campfire, dumpster diving, visiting art installations, and letting gas station buildings be my inspiration

Artists are not above the world, as certain elitist circles wanted me to believe.

We are of the world. With the world. In the world.

Take a week off of making. Visit a museum, sit at the campfire with friends, travel and photograph the gas stations.

Your creativity is more powerful than you think. It will not leave you when you take a break. You may find it grow or teach you something you couldn’t see when you were in production mode.

other ideas: take a nap, hold a funeral for a bird, attend a play and maybe you'll get to try on the costumes backstage!!!

I felt this guilt in school when I left the studio. Now, I love having a job that allows me to connect outside of art like little portals I walk in and out of, my art always with me.

look at lil 2019 abby

It’s so rewarding to look back at these pictures of me in school, rebelling against the idea that I needed to live and breathe the studio to be a good artist. Yes, I did MOSTLY live and breathe the studio.

But I also loved the library, the outdoors, the dumpsters, the campfires, the mountains, the public bathrooms, the soup kitchens, the pharmacy … and I do firmly believe the cashier at Walgreens can inspire me just as much as my old art teacher.

There is no hierarchy between those who pursue art full-time and those who hold other jobs. Respect your natural rhythms. Try new things.

Some artists are professors for 9 months and make work for 3 months of the year.

Some artists who are parents or caretakers have 30minute blocks of time to work.

Some artists are in the studio for 10 hours a day.

I love how we are all different and how we all have something to teach the other.