I spend a lot of time looking at glossy magazines and Instagram accounts of supermodels and fashion designers because this is what I make artwork about. Every now and then I ask myself if I shouldn't pick a different subject matter for the sake of my emotional and mental well-being. If someone were to ask (no one has) I would tend to say that most women should NOT look at supermodels' Instagram accounts on the regular. But I do, and it's stirred up an interesting mix of emotions within me. 

Since college, I've prided myself on being thrifty. Literally, I've mostly bought clothes from thrift stores. I love second hand things, giving them a new life. You may know that I even created and ran a shop that helped people recycle home decor and building materials for five years. I have been the happy recipient of probably thousands of dollars worth of food and items that others didn't want (I would love to know that number by the way- the monetary value of all the things I've received for free).

I've never had cable, and I didn't have the internet for a long time. I never cared how much anyone I dated made. I never had a job that paid particularly well. I was just so NOT materialistic, guys.

Then I started to become fascinated with fashion and design, and it didn't take me long to realize that I was in fact SUPER materialistic but just too broke to do anything about it. My virtuous way of life was shattered, and I didn't even get to have the leather purses or gold jewelry to ease my pain. 

I've been studying the fashion industry for several years now, and it was the gateway drug that led me to to pop music, rap, then country (?!?) I had never before allowed myself to be immersed in this culture. Deep down I knew I had liked it all along, but I had friends that wouldn't approve and so I snubbed my nose at it, too.

Today, I happily scroll through Justin Bieber's Instagram and see all of the exotic places he travels, the decadent and outlandish clothes he wears. It's like a needle to my vain. 

At the same time, I currently have a job that allows me time to listen to podcasts, and so I've been listening like crazy. Several times recently, I've heard famous people talk about the lack of happiness at the top- Money truly doesn't buy you happiness.

You know I know this. I do. Everyone does, right?

I'm currently working on many internal things in my life I've long neglected which is helping with so much of the external, how I relate to the world. I'm drawing closer to friends and family in a way that I never have. I'm taking care of myself better than ever and would go so far to say that looking at fashion magazines has actually helped me care for myself better in a lot of ways. I'm making goals for myself and working toward them. I'm becoming more disciplined and engaged so that I can live a life I'm proud of. The past is still being dealt with and the present isn't perfect, but I'm pretty sure one could call me content. It's new and good. 

But... BUT...

There is a part of my heart that is encrusted in diamonds and gilded with gold and it wants every pretty thing. For whatever reason (I blame my swank lineage) I have champagne taste, but I don't even have a beer budget*. I barely have a coffee budget. 

There are times, many times, I just really want to have so much money I don't know what to do with myself. If we admit we're materialistic, isn't that the dream? I don't want anyone to tell me that it's lonely at the top. I want to know it for myself. I want to make so much money that I can book that $10,0000 a night penthouse Airbnb. Like freakin' Beyonce. (Don't worry, I'll invite you all) I want to love everything I put on because it's beautifully designed and tailored. I'm not satisfied with rich celebrities merely telling me this lifestyle can't buy happiness. I want to know that it can't. Just for, let's say, a year. Send me on this mission so that I can tell the world money can't buy happiness. I'll gladly do it. 

And then I'll happily go back to my cable-free, quarry swimming East Tennessee life. 

*My grandfather told me once, "You can't have champagne taste on a beer budget." I think he knew I'd struggle with this one. 

Do you have thoughts about things you want to do that won't go away?

Pushing away little nudges at my heart has been the story of my life for many years because of the nature of my work life and pursuit of art. The more I wanted to succeed in these two areas, the more I had to say No to any other thing that might take away my focus.

If I've learned anything about being an artist with a day job, it is this: If I want to say Yes to certain things in my life, I have to say No to way more, even good, fun, delightful things. Doing well in one area means staying focused and cutting out distractions in other areas. I get it. Sometimes begrudgingly, but I get it.

But about six months ago, I made the choice to start walking away from my day job (and its all-consuming nature) to see if there was a way to say Yes to some of the things I had put on the backburner. While it was difficult and scary to move away from that job, I knew in my heart it was time, so it was weirdly also very easy.

Over the past several months, to process all of the things I had put on the backburner, I wrote them down and brainstormed about each one. I ended up filling up an entire legal pad and started another. Apparently there were a lot of things I had pushed to the side.

Here are some examples of what came welling to the surface:

• Write (Blog) consistently* (doing this now yo)
• Take dance lessons
• Teach art classes*
• Buy glass dishes with lids and prepare meals for each week*
• Go on a real vacation*
• Go on so many vacations
• Find an ocean and sit by it for many days*
• Play soccer*
• Learn how to make jewelry (soldering, metalworking)
• Make a body of artwork & court some galleries outside of Knoxville*
• Get together with (fill in the blank with 30+ different people)* 

As you can imagine, a legal pad-sized list is pretty overwhelming, but I keep reminding myself to take it one step at a time. This whole process has taught me two powerful things:

1. I want my day job to allow me to make art and to do as many things on my list as possible. I don't want to take work home with me on nights, weekends, or vacations unless, I am the owner of that business.

2. Finally going after dreamy or lofty goals demystifies them which is necessary to figure out which are worthwhile. The greatest gift of working through my list is realizing the items I thought I wanted to pursue, but in fact, really do not want to do.

I'll give you an example:

As you saw on my list above, I put down Teach Art Classes. I've thought about it for such a long time, BUT... Almost as soon as I sent that message out into the world, I realized I didn't want to do it at all. Surprise!

The thing about dreaming, which is all in your head, is you don't start out thinking about the work. The time. The effort. And if it's a business idea- networking, marketing yourself, coming up with prices, preparation, running errands, keeping the books.

So when a few people expressed interest in the classes, I responded. When I didn't hear anything back, I quietly backpedaled... and then ran in the opposite direction. I was so relieved. A dream I had dreamed for so long: Dead on Arrival. 

It was a little embarrassing, I admit, but the silver lining outweighed that feeling. Now I can check that puppy off my list. Actually, I checked off a whole page, and that's a gift. On to the next thing...

Sidenote: This doesn't mean I will never teach art classes, just not right now.

So after this happened, I was talking to Dale Mackey of The Central Collective about this notion of trying and quitting (gasp). Was it ok that I did this? And she tells me that if she has, what she thinks is a great idea, she will just go for it. If it loses steam or doesn't work out or she loses interest, she can allow herself to quit thinking about it and move on. And that's ok!

I think we all agree that this method may not be appropriate for every aspect of life, but as an entrepreneur, as a human who develops many interests, isn't it fun to think of all the things you can pursue with this mentality? It allows someone like Dale to dream uninhibited, which is a beautiful thing because, while some of her ideas don't come through, the ones that do are pretty brilliant, and our community reaps plentifully from her endeavors.

One last story:

There were these beautiful shoes at Style of Civil a few years ago. I had an art show there, and each time I'd go in, I'd stare at them, pick them up, hold them. I couldn't afford them so I wouldn't try them on until the owner said, "Let me get your size. Let's see if they work, and if they don't, you can quit thinking about them."

And so I tried them on. And they were extremely uncomfortable. And it broke the magical spell they had cast on me. I was free! 

(Please click here for poignant illustration).

What a delight to receive from a boutique shoe store owner such sage advice that has helped me live my life better. It's the main reason I'm writing again. Writing has been nagging me for so long and I now have the time and energy to turn toward it and say, "Let's do this. (Please don't embarrass me.)"

So I leave you with these words if something good has been tugging at your heart for a while:

Just try it on** (while also being safe, responsible, and caring for others).

*I have done these things or started the process. Three cheers for Lists!

**Name that movie

Everyone has them: Stories and memories they fondly tell over and over again. I call these stories people's Glory Days.

It's funny the subjects that fall under my Glory Days category, the things I repetitively recount to friends, family, strangers, as I gaze off into the distance and sigh.

I don't have a lot of fun and wild stories from my past that are appropriate group banter, so many times my Glory Days have more to do with what I have accomplished. I know. Totally lame.

For example, something I bring up a lot is my stint as a writer for the (Award Winning!) Sunsphere is NOT a Wigshop blog. I wear that honor like a bejeweled crown.

I loved writing for that blog, a feeling which mostly had to do with my naivety about writing back then. I did not know what I was doing, and so the joy was great, (ignorance is truly bliss). I felt pretty uninhibited, which I didn't realize would be such a fleeting feeling for me. The fact that people were reading did not scare me away from writing.

But something changed in me once all the writers gradually faded out and the blog died its slow death. I had started my own blog so that I could expand the subjects I wrote about, but all of the sudden, I became stiflingly aware of the audience.

I am an open book by nature and can be pretty direct (direct: a nicer word for abrasive). I have also been on a mission to become a gentler and kinder person as I age. Mix this confusion with trying to better market and sell artwork and you get paralyzing fear. It's a hard line marketing yourself as an artist because who I am is tied to what I create so divorcing the two felt like I was doing myself a disservice. But I didn't know how to write without the fear that I would estrange so many from me.

I think part of my nervousness stemmed from being a wide-eyed observer on social media for so many years. If I've learned anything from Facebook, etc., it is that if you're honest, you will anger exactly 50% of all people. It's a scientific fact that I made up one day after years of observation. And I just didn't want to bring that negativity down on me, even if it meant that 50% of the people loved it. I couldn't do that at the time.

Riding the line of honesty and kindness has felt impossible to me for a long time. In a lot of my experience, if I'm honest I hurt people or open myself up to criticism. I have struggled with depression, self-loathing, anger, many things, and what I realize looking back is that I needed a time to hunker down, a time of self-protection, to figure out what was harmful in my life, to decrease those things, and increase any and all good. 

During this time of mental health hibernation, writing had no place, even though I longed to do it. And in this way and so many others, Adulthood has crushed my dreams. In its weird and mysterious way, too, however, Adulthood has knocked me down to build up something better within me. Wisdom and maturity will stop at nothing to well up in me. The more I blow them off, and I am so good at blowing them off, the harder they come down on me. They will not let me continue to live the way that I have lived, letting so many bad things into my life, being a fool. The hibernation phase was a lot of time embracing how I really felt about things (not hating myself for feeling something negative) while simultaneously licking my wounds. 

Today, the wound-licking is mostly over and I'm beginning to bare my scars with a little pride. I'm still a little shaky about it and don't feel completely ready to start writing again, but I've decided to take the leap anyway. I've grown impatient, and I know I have a harder head and heart (in a good way) to deal with the criticism, if and when it comes. 

So because I love a good list, I will name my fears in order to face them head on:

1. I'm afraid that my writing will decrease my audience as an artist. If people read what I'm thinking, many may discredit what I make, and that's scary because Art is an aspect of my livelihood. But it's also a dumb fear, and I'll tell you why through an example.

I love Justin Bieber, mostly because I love the music he makes. I also follow him on Instagram which I find wildly entertaining. Do I think he hung the moon? Do I think he is perfect? No, I do not. My love runs deep for him because I love the mixture in him of ridiculous fame and talent alongside the fact that he is very human, someone who makes mistakes, and is arrogant, and, I think genuinely, trying to do the best he can in this world.

And in this first point, I have all ready sent many people running for the hills. I will be disdained by those who cannot understand my affinity for JB, and I will have to live with that. I am not sorry.

2. My family/ friends of my past will read what I write and worry. Or wonder why I choose to put these things out there. It would be easier to think only strangers will choose to read out of enjoyment and not because of the worry I instill in them. Worry is a quality I accidentally instill in people that care for me. I can't exactly say why, but y'all, I am fine. I am better than fine. So I hope that people come to listen. You don't have to agree, just listen. If you want.

3. I will want to write about personal things or stories about people I know and will have to stop myself or censor myself. I've never understood how auto-biographical writers do this. It's really what I want to do, but how do you do it without potentially burning major bridges. How do you do it gracefully?

4. I will worry about who is reading and I will let that dictate what I write and fluctuate between self-loathing and arrogance, which is my MO. 

5. I will not be able to break away from my perfectionist tendencies. This post alone has taken a few hours because I edit and add and edit and add. I don't have that kind of time. How can I write better faster? Practice, I suppose.

Let the practicing begin.