I hit the wall yesterday. I was bleary eyed, I could barely type out single words let alone sentences on the computer, I was 100% ineffective at everything I was hoping to complete. I needed to spend the day in the studio and when noon rolled around I knew there wasn’t a chance I would be remotely effective in that space either so I shut it all down. I stepped out of the house to peer at the sky — it looked capable of anything. I packed a bag with my camera gear, water and two coats in case of rain or cold or both. The dogs eagerly loaded in the truck and we were off.
More often than not, there’s so much to do around here that it can feel difficult to justify days like yesterday and I have to remind myself that going outside is how I sweep out the cobwebs and reverse the muscular atrophy that comes with too much computer work, too much photo editing, too much time spent hunched over in the studio, too much tame living. Going outside is vital to my work. It’s as important as answering emails, submitting images, writing my morning pages and crafting cocktail rings.
I signed another contract for a photography job this week. I was on the fence about it for a long while. I was afraid (I am still afraid) it might be a mistake, an overextension. I like to do my very best, no matter what I’m working on, and I’m afraid of this job and what it might do to my life over the next few months. Fear. Fear. Fear. It will be a lot of work and I need to find a way to do it with joy and HEART, injecting soul and honesty into every image. I talked to Rob about it. I talked to some of my friends about it. I wrestled with it like Jacob and the Angel of the Lord…
In the end, I committed to the work because I didn’t feel like I could say no to it. In this business, there’s soul work and there’s survival work and sometimes the two can operate hand in hand and sometimes they can’t and you’ve just got to do what you’ve got to do to get by. I know there’s some romance hanging like a golden sunbeam over what I am doing with my life as a freelance photographer and a metalsmith but the fact is this, these are jobs.
In fact, I think there’s too much glamour attached to the notion of doing full-time creative work, I mean the image of the working artist — it’s not more noble, it’s not more soulful, it’s not more meaningful, it’s not more emotionally and spiritually centering to do art full-time for a living. The work itself can be noble, soulful, meaningful and centering (ANY job can be these things) but doing creative work as a full-time job isn’t going to strip your life of normalcy. You’re still going to be human You’re still going to have your struggles. I’m just trying to be honest about this because sometimes folks get worship-y about the lives of full-time artists. The work is just as messy and complicated and beautiful as having a job out in the real world.
Just like you, there are mornings when I don’t want to do my work. I want to do something else. I want to stay in bed curled up with my animals and read a book instead of facing my inboxes or sitting down in front of a necklace design I managed to bung up when I let myself work too late in the night with muddled eyes. There are times, too, when it’s the joy of my heart to work!
I get tired. I get energized. I get hurt. I get healed. I get empty. I get full.
I’m just like you.
Anyway, the dogs and I went out yesterday, we had some gale force wind blowing in our ears, we found plenty of really cool dead stuff to look at, we watched the hawks hunt, we listened to the canyon wren, we heard the chukar chuckling, we gazed off in the distance and daydreamed, we kept our eyes peeled for antlers, and we walked it out, mile after mile, until the sun went down.
We don’t regret, for a moment, how we spent the day.
Thanks Jillian- I appreciate your pragmatism. When I am going through my own struggles and begin looking down that ridiculous, pesky little rabbit hole comparing my situation to others’- whom I may or may not even know- I like to remind myself that in order to keep the sink clean, everyone has to do dishes once in awhile…ha!
Oh, we’re always “grass is greener-ing” each others yards!!! 🙂 XX
It’s true. What we see from you – from all artists, really – is the end result. It’s easy to forget the sore muscles, the days of frustration and exhaustion and the days of little to no inspiration when what is given is so heart achingly beautiful.
But here’s the thing (without being worship-y): by living authentically you have managed to take even your normal days, even your bad days, and turn them into art. Your hunts, your hikes, your days both in and out of your studio whether they are good or bad to you, still inspire the rest of us out here to live true to ourselves.
I’d say that it’s a job – but a job well done!
Ah! Beautifully said!
This is true. This is true.
Appreciate your thoughts on the matter!
Creativity drains ones energy, I know that so well, but it is a price to pay for a “free” life living on your own terms. Complicated…but…I am glad you took that photograph job, do not have fear (even if it is normal, it makes you reevaluate your capacities so it is a good thing) you are sooooooooooooooooooooooo good at it, it will be fine and at the end we might get some photographs too ahahahahahahah good luck and thanks again for this very honest post.
It’s draining and filling and I have no official complaints about that.
Thanks for the encouragement on the newest photography gig! I think I’m afraid of it because it’s going to require me to dig deep and push myself even harder than I have been.
I think what this post is really about is…growing pains.
XX
well-said.
x
Thanks, toots! X
Have you read Shop Class for Soulcraft?
I have not! I’ll look into it. Thanks, Bruce.
Nicely crafted post, Jillian!!
Thanks, Greg.
I have to agree, as a farmer I spent hours doing mundane things like managing our Quickbooks, building cash flow projections, pitchforking manure and feeding critters. I think social media has created a neat way for us to offer glimpses into our lives that strip away these less appealing realities. That allows others to perhaps imagine an artist is unfettered from the day-to-day and that farm life is all baby animals. Thanks for reminding us of that! I do sometimes envy your walks out in the wilds, so its helpful to remember that you too might return from a jaunt to a pile of dishes and a muddy floor (just like me).
The dirty dishes and muddy floors here are endless. The drive for groceries is eternal (2 hour round trip). The post office is a major hike (closes at noon every day). The WIFI works…sometimes. I could go on and on.
But the flip side of all of that is a wonder-ton of beauty that’s worth fighting for.
I love all the words here! The post, the support and perspectives of other folk that find connection here. I battle day-to-day with an artist brain in a non-artist job. I love though that like you, my hikes and adventures into the wilderness keep me thriving inside my heart and soul.
I think ya’ll are amazing! Plume & gatherers to this special spot.
My readership is amazing. Always.
Without you wonderful people and your comments, my posts would be poor. You add so much wealth to this space.
Every morning, here, begins with a hike for the dog and I, through the river bottoms, woods, or prairie. It is a must for my emotional well-being…and for my job as a full-time artist and writer. On days like the one you’ve written about…there may be two hikes. Ha! I get it, completely.
I love this post!! Just what I needed right now — we so need those outdoorsy days to keep us sane, even if the piled up work is left at home.