Sometime, somewhere back in the depths of my subconscious as my young self made plans for the future, I convinced myself art couldn’t be a job. I couldn’t make money doing something that felt so selfish, so focused on my own expression or thoughts, so unstable and unreliable. Reality reinforced them: student loans are crushing, cost of living is a big deal, and the pressure to contribute immediately can be dizzying. I distracted myself with these very tangible worries and spoke to them through traditional work ethic in traditional work spaces. By moving my focus away from internal artistic motivations, I quietly became numb and accepted the divorce of art making from my every day experience. After all, who am I to take time for myself to explore creative process and find joy in work when so many people live their whole lives without it? Who am I to burden someone else with the 9-5 while I explore ill-defined artistic potential? I settled for the smaller celebrations of creativity still found in even the most mundane if you look hard enough, and convinced myself they were sufficient.
STUDENT WORK: shadows of a past dream with new light on ‘em.
Despite my best efforts to become totally engrossed in the work at hand in the traditional ways — to live within the restraints others suggested and I internalized — whispers and reminders of self poked through. Eventually, I couldn’t talk over them.
I changed course. I started something new that allowed me to be more intentional with my time and rethink the necessity of corporate culture. My privilege allowed me to get to this point: I had [and continue to rely on] a support network that enthusiastically encourages me and sees potential beyond my own blind spots. I saved money, have a partner who kicks NGO ass, and I have a home. My dog even encourages me to be more kind and loving to myself. I also had cultural archetypes doing similar exciting things that provided the tiny reinforcement of “if they can do it, so can I” to sink in — our systems of society do not treat others so kindly, and this is not lost on me.
The jump started with a strong surge of mission and purpose with my privilege in mind, to which art became a tool: my new work could be communicated and expressed in visual forms that had impact individually AND served mission progress. Who knew?!
RIVER THOUGHTS: simple illustration communicates the anxieties and otherness fly fishing culture can inspire in even the most badass fly fishers — but especially for fly fishers who already feel other. This piece was designed in reflection of a colleague’s anecdote and journey, shared with a greater community and met with understanding.
REDFISH: from a series of juvenile fish species. By highlighting well-recognized fish species, illustrations can inform on early life morphological identification points to ensure safe and healthy encounters while also reminding us of our own journeys of growth we undertake throughout our lives..
Initially, this all began through the re-connection to self: I started doing what I grew up doing and drew my observations, and continued exploring identity. Fish, birds, moose, dogs — I rediscovered my artistic practice and somehow managed to progress style and approach in a way that was gratifying. I couldn’t stop.
CUTTHROAT: detail from an upcoming publication in collaboration with an amazing human.
Then projects started forming. I could create a series of work to reinforce a mission. I could collaborate with other minds to make something entirely new. I could…I could…I could — almost endless. Amazing to see what possibility exists when you remove your self-imposed restrictions.
I am writing this as a humble exploration and extension of this possibility. Can I serve mission AND buy groceries? If I can somehow work this out and maintain a creative lifestyle, it’s worth putting some effort in to try.
There’s still a lot to discover, many collaborators to meet, and plenty of mistakes to make. Thankfully, fish, birds, and my other usual subjects are kind ones…or apathetic, at the very least. Let’s hope for some empathy and understanding from fellow humans. I say this to encourage a shared journey: I want to further goals beyond my own, and I want to be better. I am working hard to evolve, and I hope my work encourages and supports others in this necessary journey to self. And heck, every once in a while, hopefully it dumps humor all over human emotions and experiences to make us all feel a little bit closer, a little more seen, and a little bit more of a community.
All that to say: after months [+ years] of convincing myself to invest in myself, I finally got shit moving!
Let’s try this out.
