I've been told that in order to write a successful blog one must write articles that others will be interested in reading. Well okay, I'm game. Just what are other people interested in? I only know myself. I'm not that interesting, but I do know myself. Obviously, I'm interested in art, but that's narrow. My interests usually go with the flow of others. Aren't we all influenced in many ways by each other? Who really painted the first rose?
My interests these days are in how to survive. Because I've been suffering from pneumonia for the past month I am interested in more than financial survival, but the physical kind as well. I'm never sick. I don't like being sick. To me, losing a day is tragic. After a few life threatening situations I find that each minute I'm aware of living, is precious to me. I hate losing time because of sickness. I can't sleep during the day and I rarely sleep more than 6 hours at night. I know that time is relative, but even though I never wear a watch the time does seem to fly by with or without it.
Survival, interesting concept. Because we are alive, does that mean we are surviving or is there a deeper meaning to the word survival? The dictionary states that survival is a continuance beyond the life of another; any ancient use, custom, or belief continuing to the present day (Webster, 1962). Then there is survival of the fittest. That makes me think of President Kennedy and his fitness program. (I have no idea where that came from, but it did.)
Am I just surviving or is my life making a difference? Will my art survive me? Will you know me because of my art? I never do anything with ease. That's something I know about myself. If I type I have to be the fastest. If I study I have to get the best grade, know the most. It's never been a competition against another. I've somewhere in my past found the need to better myself with each day. Push to beat myself. Being who I am I've psychoanalyzed myself to death. This drive comes from the fact that my parents never expected me to do well. I was considered not extremely smart and C's were just fine. It's not their fault. They'd never heard of dyslexia and I didn't know I had it until I was 30 and put through a weeks worth of testing at the University of Nevada, Reno. They wanted to know what skills I had and what I would excel in before they admitted me. I found out I wasn't stupid and I was extremely dyslexic. I was also pergnant, which was an even bigger surprise, but that's for another time. I did find out I was interested in painting from those tests. I must have known deep inside as a small child and all through my growing up years that I wasn't really stupid. I struggled at reading and that was explained away because I had been deaf when they were teaching reading. But I pushed myself and I really liked the way it felt.
I want to be the best. I know this is a very high hurdle to glide over, but it's the honest truth. Why else would anyone do anything if it weren't to achieve greatness? What would be the point? If I don't make it into the group of the best at least I will be able to say I gave it my all. Right now with the economy as it is, I'm sure most of us out there painting are being looked down at as lazy because we don't GET A JOB. Make some money.
I want to survive, but I'm stubborn. I want to survive beyond money. I want my spirit to survive, too. This is considered selfish now in this world we live in. It's not really socially accepted to actually like what you do for a job. When I get well, which I'm sure will be very soon (I'm practicing positive thinking), I'm going to GET A JOB other than painting. It's the right thing to do to help my family financially survive. I do have skills. Yep, I can type 150 wpm, unfortunately. My heart won't be in it, but I'll fake it. I'll push myself to be the best at whatever I can do to make money. I'd much rather sell a painting, but I have no control over that other than offering the work to buy. My heart will be in front of my easel with my favorite white sweatshirt, legs crossed leaning into a canvas filled with potential. I would love to live in a world where art was considered a job, but it isn't. Somewhere in all of this chaos I will find a balance. I must for my own survival. What is survival for you?
My interests these days are in how to survive. Because I've been suffering from pneumonia for the past month I am interested in more than financial survival, but the physical kind as well. I'm never sick. I don't like being sick. To me, losing a day is tragic. After a few life threatening situations I find that each minute I'm aware of living, is precious to me. I hate losing time because of sickness. I can't sleep during the day and I rarely sleep more than 6 hours at night. I know that time is relative, but even though I never wear a watch the time does seem to fly by with or without it.
Survival, interesting concept. Because we are alive, does that mean we are surviving or is there a deeper meaning to the word survival? The dictionary states that survival is a continuance beyond the life of another; any ancient use, custom, or belief continuing to the present day (Webster, 1962). Then there is survival of the fittest. That makes me think of President Kennedy and his fitness program. (I have no idea where that came from, but it did.)
Am I just surviving or is my life making a difference? Will my art survive me? Will you know me because of my art? I never do anything with ease. That's something I know about myself. If I type I have to be the fastest. If I study I have to get the best grade, know the most. It's never been a competition against another. I've somewhere in my past found the need to better myself with each day. Push to beat myself. Being who I am I've psychoanalyzed myself to death. This drive comes from the fact that my parents never expected me to do well. I was considered not extremely smart and C's were just fine. It's not their fault. They'd never heard of dyslexia and I didn't know I had it until I was 30 and put through a weeks worth of testing at the University of Nevada, Reno. They wanted to know what skills I had and what I would excel in before they admitted me. I found out I wasn't stupid and I was extremely dyslexic. I was also pergnant, which was an even bigger surprise, but that's for another time. I did find out I was interested in painting from those tests. I must have known deep inside as a small child and all through my growing up years that I wasn't really stupid. I struggled at reading and that was explained away because I had been deaf when they were teaching reading. But I pushed myself and I really liked the way it felt.
I want to be the best. I know this is a very high hurdle to glide over, but it's the honest truth. Why else would anyone do anything if it weren't to achieve greatness? What would be the point? If I don't make it into the group of the best at least I will be able to say I gave it my all. Right now with the economy as it is, I'm sure most of us out there painting are being looked down at as lazy because we don't GET A JOB. Make some money.
I want to survive, but I'm stubborn. I want to survive beyond money. I want my spirit to survive, too. This is considered selfish now in this world we live in. It's not really socially accepted to actually like what you do for a job. When I get well, which I'm sure will be very soon (I'm practicing positive thinking), I'm going to GET A JOB other than painting. It's the right thing to do to help my family financially survive. I do have skills. Yep, I can type 150 wpm, unfortunately. My heart won't be in it, but I'll fake it. I'll push myself to be the best at whatever I can do to make money. I'd much rather sell a painting, but I have no control over that other than offering the work to buy. My heart will be in front of my easel with my favorite white sweatshirt, legs crossed leaning into a canvas filled with potential. I would love to live in a world where art was considered a job, but it isn't. Somewhere in all of this chaos I will find a balance. I must for my own survival. What is survival for you?
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