Creating Art. That's Not Really WORKING, Is It?

I have to whine a little bit. I just do. I'm exhausted. I don't just sit in my studio and create art.

I also have to run down shows for weeks on end - every single year - looking for shows that fit my demographic, my budget, my schedule. The deadlines to apply are usually way in advance, and sometimes, I miss getting my application in (with $$ jury fees) before that deadline. Then I wait, again for weeks on end, to see if I got in the show, and hope I did, because I didn't apply to any others for that time frame. And, if I did apply to others, I have to hope and pray I got "the other one" if I got waitlisted or denied entry to a show. Either way, I've lost one or two "jury fees." The cost of doing business, my ex used to say.

I have to do my taxes for the state monthly (because I can't put money aside for the quarterly reports), market my show, read reviews on shows, read art blogs, buy replacement supplies, research demographics, make sure I have all my art inventoried and recorded (as well as scanned/photographed for the website). Oh, yes, and the website, which usually needs a complete update after every show, as do the inventory sheets. I also write feature stories for a magazine, which I LOVE to do, as well as review columns on shows (which I attend on the weekends I don't work at one). And here's an eye-opener: the creation of art on a daily basis is mentally exhausting. Seriously. It is. Nothing I would rather do, I'm not complaining. I'm just whining.

This doesn't include the rest of the normal housekeeping stuff and the general attention to at least a minimal amount of hygiene and self-care (I have learned to go a whole day without make-up). Oh yeah, and the bill-paying, the grocery-buying, the dog-walking. I have literally learned to buy toilet paper online to save me from having to go out in public and lose two hours of time that could be spent doing art.

Right now, I'm in a self-imposed two-week crisis mode to make art. Up late, up early (well, earlier than the usual 5 a.m.) - and all because I don't feel comfortable with the amount of inventory I have. The more inventory, the more you sell. It's a simple equation. I don't make a lot of "big" art - so I have to make a fair amount of smaller art. The smaller art flies off the walls. The larger art takes a wee bit longer. And, I need a return on my investment quickly. I have roughly two weeks between my shows, unless I get crazy and go week to week, which is something I have done, don't like to do, but sometimes I can get away with it.

It's like being a member of a band on tour. Just less profit. It's like being an actor on a film site (with a whole freakin' bunch less profit), with months and months of grueling creative work pouring out every orifice, with relatively no break in-between because time is money in the film industry. Just like in any creative field, where you sell yourself, your work, your time.

And it's nail-bitingly frustrating when you have a slow show, with bad weather or no buyers or, worse, not enough art to entice anyone into your space. It's driving hundreds of miles starting at 2 a.m. to set up a show. It's setting up your tent (which takes 3 hours) in physical conditions I can imagine the pyramid builders were subjected to: hot, dark, more hot and at least one or two cuts, bruises or banged toes. Then, eight hours of marketing your work, and grabbing a burger on the way to the hotel. Next day, you can actually get a cup of coffee before the marketing starts again, and the three hours of taking down your tent and packing up your art begins...and the drive home, hundreds of miles.

When someone glibly states that it must be fun to sit at home and create art all day, I just smile. It's not really like WORKING, is it? Not really. Right?

I think I shall call it a day, at 9 p.m., and have a glass of wine before I crash into sleep.

And I'll do it all again tomorrow, because this IS my job. It IS what I do for a living.