i've been asked to give a workshop. and a presentation about being a fulltime artist. two separate opportunities, yet one will likely feed the other. as i worked yesterday, i thought about what i might say. (and if you know me, then you know i tend to go long). i've never been one to kid myself, or candy-coat when people ask. i don't use this blog as an advertisement for the work of my hands, although i will update on new & exciting things simply because it's my voice. i'm not a journaler, so this space is where i dump my day...good & bad...precious and not-so-proud of moments. it's where i connect & work things out, and stay in touch with you. and don't worry about punctuation & grammar. so to answer a slew of email questions i've gotten, and also to try to gel my thoughts for the presentation, here is what i think: being a fulltime artist is not for the faint-of-heart. it is not for risk-takers. it is a business with no guarantee of financial success, and requires complete updating & remaking on a monthly basis. it is a business, first and foremost, if it is your sole income. i have been blessed with a safety net of husband's income, but his patience would run thin if he didn't see how much effort i put into it...with or without financial reward. there is a lot of paperwork and details that the taxman wants, silly him! there are emails to return and orders to keep on track with, and oh yes - creativity and soul to mine like gold nuggets. anyone can buy anything from anywhere these days...why should they buy from you? i've heard artists talk about "product," as in "I moved a lot of product at that show." they day i think about my work as "product" is the day I rinse out my brushes, and douse my soldering torch for good. despite the high volume of pieces i need to make for a festival, each one is designed by me and is unique from every other one. product. snort. see? i'm already windy & off-track. okay... first the nuts & bolts, then the sweet stuff: you will get up earlier than you imagined...you will work a minimum of 12 hours a day, and often weekends. and holidays. you will work through times when you are creatively constipated, because you have to - someone is waiting for a piece they've ordered, or there's a show in 2 weeks and you need 3 more pieces to hang...someone copied you and now all you can think about is how dare they...despite what you perceive should be a religious experience every time you enter your studio, you begin to notice that you are "going to work" but in your bathrobe...friends, relatives, stepchildren and sometimes husbands will ask for favors/errands/free artwork because you are home and "have time" / "want to help you get your name out there." They will stop by your studio to chat uninvited, and usually when you're up to your eyeballs in alligators, trying to get something finished by a deadline. They will expect free art and discounts. you will worry endlessly if you are good enough...you will worry endlessly if you deserve this opportunity...you will question everything, and suddenly that desk in the cube farm will start to look pretty good...you will realize you need materials but hadn't budgeted for it because you forgot to figure in how much all the one-time setup stuff costs...your loved ones (furbabes included) will try to tempt you away from your studio with kayaking and daytrips and all manner of sparkly things, and you will feel guilty saying "i have to finish this." your neighbors will look at you with the same eyes that used to be reserved for stay-at-home moms (before we all became them and realized how hard it was)...only you have no children to carpool, so you are more like the nutty neighbor who gets the mail in her bathrobe. and then watch her melt down when her order from a supplier isn't there. now the sweet stuff... yes, you get up at dark o'clock every day, but it's quiet and peaceful and the world is yours...you imagine who will be wearing a piece of jewelry you create, and try to send them a love letter with your work...you are free to take a "walkie" break with your diva dog whenever you want, and if it's a day of thunder, you can hug her and comfort her...yes, the risks are all yours, but so are the rewards - to hear back from someone that they love the piece you made for them, well, that beats all...you get to meet interesting people at festivals and galleries, and talk about art and process and all manner of soul-enriching conversation...your studio is your sanctuary....when things are going well, it is truly an amazing feeling...when they aren't, the frustration is enough to make you put on those pantyhose and heels and go back to the cube. essentially, you have to have a deep passion for the work - and it is work. hard work. but if you feel it is what you were born to do, you simply must. you must. or you must find a way to be deeply & truly satisfied with whatever configuration you can make to let that passion express itself. without that outlet, you will be miserable, and that will creep into every aspect of your life. no matter how good of an artist you are, or how passionate about art you are, if you have a low tolerance for risk, you may not want to chuck the day job. i grew up with a father who worked on commissions. my husband works on commission. i am used to fluctuations in salary, and months when it's a little too close to the edge, or even just short of safe. i understand that a big sale today doesn't mean it will be something to count on...that sale may be the only income you see for a month or two months. 12 years ago i had a plan...and that plan was structured so that i could work as a full time artist without needing to worry about income. Then i met & married my husband, and his children, and the plan vaporized as we blended needs and wants and other plans. this year, as i sat at my desk in the cube farm of my Big Girl Job, i realized that it was time for me to realize that plan. and i walked away from the assurance of a steady paycheck, and into the hardest job i've ever loved, truly loved. i am more my authentic self than ever before, and that deep gratitude & joy has transformed my household and my marriage. my husband has dreams also. he wants a boat. always has. and i know he will own one someday. he will make the choices he needs to in order to make that happen. but i need to keep on the path of what i know to be true - that my purpose is to create art. why that is, I don't know. but i know it to be true. so as you can see, the nuts & bolts portion is the realistic part of being a full time artist, and by no means is it an all-inclusive list. the trick is to have more gratitude and appreciation for the sweet stuff. now, on a Sunday morning of a holiday weekend, i'm off to work!