Bi-polar Vision of an "Artist"

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The subject of what makes an artist has been coming up more and more of late. There is no profile of an artist. There are archetypes out there, ones that some of us feel the need to emulate. But, really? They are just one manifestation of an artist.

Being creative is a need. It's like breathing, as essential. It isn't a life style. People often shy away from calling themselves artists, because they feel they haven't earned their stripes. Well, bullshit.

You don't have to be written up in the New Yorker to be an artist. You don't have to have your art framed in a museum to be an artist. You don't have to be a tortured soul living on bread, painting in some attic to be an artist. You are an artist because your soul has the need to create. An apron, a thank you letter, a mouth-watering cookie, a mixed media piece, a happy environment for your kids. Those are creations that bring joy.

This subject has come up so many times in my life. I never thought I was "good" enough to be an artist. My art is nowhere near the caliber of truly accomplished artists. My figures are almost rudimentary and I am still learning. I have a lot to learn. But I have this yearning to create. To create images. To splatter my feelings all over whatever medium I am working with.

Will my artwork sell at ridiculous prices? Will I be the talk to the town? Do I want those things? I would be dishonest not to say, "Yes!" Who wouldn't?

Does it fuel my art? Hell, no. Life fuels my art. And life can be glorious but it can also be painful. Very, very painful.

I am a writer. I wrote before I could talk. This is who I am. I struggled with this all my life. Why? Because being a writer, I felt compelled to write a novel. That's what writers do, right? Wrong. It took me a long time to realize I am not a novelist. I wrote two novels to completion. A harlequin and a "literary" novel. They both stink to high heaven. They are written well; I am a writer after all; but they have the emotional maturity of an embryo. I tossed them aside, feeling like I was a failure as a writer. But that's not true. That is far from the truth. Poetry and non-fiction musings are my mediums of expression. They have always been.

Ideas for novels creep up on me when I am waiting at the check-out, when I am grading a paper, when I am cleaning out my toilet. When I sleep. What the hell? Make up your damn mind woman! Are you or are you not going to write a novel?

The belief that in order to be a successful writer or artist (same thing) you must get paid for it. And certainly, that would be heavenly. To make a living and a good one, writing or painting or both. Or making crafts, or creating sculptures, or mouth-watering recipes, or whatever. Who doesn't want that?

But what of reality? The reality is that for every 500 artists and writers, one makes it to the light of fame. I just pulled that figure out of thin air. I have no bloody clue what the stats are and if there can be reliable stats anyway. I have a problem with stats, but I digress. The point is obvious. Not everyone "makes" it.

What about the rest of us?

The essence is that though we might not make a splash that will be felt around the world, we can make a wave in our part of it. We can express beauty and longing and pathos and victory and worry, and touch others through our creations. Even if it's just one person. Us.

Which leads me to my other concern, so to speak.

Yes, I try to be a positive person. I have had to be. I learned very early in life that if I don't take care of myself, no one else will. That if I do not pick myself up from whatever mire I find myself in, no one will. That the only person I can truly count on is myself. That degree of isolation can be crippling. Can be deadly. There have been times I wished death to come and release me from the constant angst I feel myself drowning in.

Talk about a tortured soul...

But I make myself open the windows of my soul, and let it stream out. In light. In prisms of color. In hope. Because, I am here on this planet for a reason. Aren't I? And even though I have no idea why I am here, I am here. And I will create, and write, and struggle to make things better, and voice my opinions no matter how unpopular they are, and be who I am.

Because.

I cannot be anyone else.

I am a bipolar artist. Not clinically. But certainly.

Blessed be :)