Art? What art?

Soooo. I have trained for a half marathon. And ran it. I got horribly sick. And I got better. I got bleaching chemicals in my eyeball. And fully recovered. (but still thinking about sportin’ the rockin’ eyepatch. I really think I could pull it off. hee.) Work is great. My boss is back. My workload is back to manageable without working nights and weekends. Things with the boyfriend are fantabulous. Kids are most awesome. Life is grand indeed.

Except. Um, this IS an art blog. a blog about my ART CAREER. And um, what the hell happened to it? Well folks, it didn’t go the way of the dodo. Even tho it feels like it. I am working on a commission right now. The only one. But I am not advertising. I have not updated my website in AGES. Well, what happened? Well, I burned myself out a bit I suppose on the coloring books. Then things with the coloring books, while all still moving forward, have stalled to the pace of a snail. A very old decrepit, cane-using snail. Hobby Lobby is still interested, rest assured, no orders cancelled, just have to clear some shelf space they say. I got another encouraging email that some other folks representing some very large stores with many, many chains loved my work and are very interested too. My agent wrote to say an editor at a very well known publishing company loved my book. All good. All moving sloooow. So you get your hopes up, then you wait. YOu get excited, you celebrate. Then you wait. And somewhere in there you feel like that damn little boy cried wolf so many times that you just finally tied him up, put tape over his mouth and stuck him in the damn closet. And so in order to deal with all the waiting I have just been concentrating on the bill paying kind of work and not the dreaming kind of work.

And ya know what happened? I am kinda sad. I don’t feel like me. I have not doodled or sketched or dreamed up ideas or thought of things to sell on etsy in FOREVER. And I am trying to get it back, but I seemed to have shut that closet door really tight. Maybe padlocked it even. I MISS checking email each day looking for that one from a new painting client, or my agent, or someone who just bought a painting of mine of etsy. I miss the POSSIBILITY in my life. Of being SO SURE I will not work in a cube one day, but just not being sure when is all. Don’t get me wrong, I love my job, I truly do. My coworkers make me laugh and I make them laugh and I get paid for work I believe in. But I don’t remember the last time I couldn’t wait to get home, get the kids settled and after dinner get to my ART. And ideas. My dreams, my loves. My silly doodles that make me smile.

I am trying to be patient with myself. To go at least unlock the closet door and let that annoying little kid out. Cause I know one day when he comes screaming to tell me, while it won’t be a wolf, it will be an opportunity and I don’t want to miss it. And if I keep getting scared of the waiting and the disappointment that it is not happening in MY time frame I will miss it because I won’t be looking for it or open to it or able to hear it at all.

And I know this sounds like I am depressed. I am NOT. In the LEAST. I am just sad that I have come to a place where I have lost my passion for my art and my dreams a bit. And I want it back. I guess missing it is a pretty good sign though. 🙂

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