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

... Continued from the previous post...

6. I am most inspired by all of those psychology-ish & autobiographical writers and speakers out there: Brené Brown, Elizabeth Gilbert, Ann Lamott, Cheryl Strayed, Brennan Manning.

It's a common trend these days to talk about your story and apply it universally to help and assist a broad audience. And I do think these writers have profoundly helped others by telling their stories. 

I guess I wonder if I have anything new to add. I'm also overwhelmed by all the stories and ideas that are out there (I just recently started listening to Podcasts and the sea is OH SO vast!), that may be well known, that I'm not aware of yet, and I will just repeat things that have all ready been said.

This is an interesting fear that also affects other endeavors I have, but I can say, it does not really affect art-making.  When it comes to making art, I just do it. (That's a loaded statement I'd like to expound on later, but...) It's a beautiful thing, while writing feels like unchartered territory for me, and I am an amateur in very chartered territory. And I have to ask myself questions like, "Is chartered* even a word?"

7. When I make a painting, there is a sense of mystery to the deepest meaning that I do not readily share with others. It's not that I'm intentionally hiding something, but where I don't feel the need to divulge every detail of my artwork to others (because I'd like most to infer their own meaning) I'm not so sure I can be that vague with writing. Can I write about my experience or opinions and keep it universal and not so specific?

I wonder this because, while I've been writing my whole life, it has mostly been a practice just for me. I've kept a journal since I was very small (One that has a lock and key. Adorable). But many things happened over the past several months and one of those things was giving up that private practice of journaling. I still long to write though, but since it's no longer for myself, I'm feeling a bit lost. 

8. I don't have a uniform subject matter. Or really any definitive topic I want to discuss. I suppose, like my artwork and how I use social media, it will be about everything. Everyday I become curious about something new, and I think all the time, "If I went back to school, I would study this thing!" Those are the things I want to write about.

On this note- I know I have wild ADD. Not many interests stick. I wish there was grad school for curious people with ADD. I would study and learn everything I could about a different subject each week or month, however long it took until I was ready to move on. Oh my goodness! Heaven on earth! #businessidea

Well, I am sure there are more fears, but next I will share about why I want to write. 

*I discovered both words are used wrong, but I leave them here to bring the point home.

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.

Last weekend, Big Ears, and driving around town, Company has hit the radio waves. 

I got to learn things, learn them the hard way
To see what it feels like, no matter what they say

Sometimes it's hard to do the right thing
When the pressure's coming down like lightning
It's like they want me to be perfect
When they don't even know that I'm hurting

This life's not easy, I'm not made out of steel
Don't forget that I'm human, don't forget that I'm real
You act like you know me, but you never will
But that's one thing that I know for sure

I'll show you
I'll show you
I'll show you
I'll show you

- J.B.

When you're an artist and people want to talk to you about promoting community/unity/revitalization through art, an inevitable idea that comes to mind is, "Let's make a community mural!"

A few murals have popped up in Knoxville over the past few years, some I like, some... not so much. Running the Salvage Shop with its large blank exterior wall makes people hum with the excitement about the potential. I am halfway excited and halfway very nervous.

I'm learning to redefine the word "mural" in my brain, for when someone says "mural" to me, I assume they mean like the one they paint in Sister Act 2: Back in the Habit to revitalize the neighborhood. (I wish I could find a picture of this; I cannot.)

I might be making this up, but this is what I see: Different colored children hand in hand around a world. It goes on from there with floating images of rainbows and peace signs covering the whole wall with every color straight out of the tube. 

What's strange is, this thing that's supposed to make me feel united and at peace with my fellow man really just makes me feel agitated. 

What could be the cure for my fear of murals? Thinking more on these things: Using only a few colors. Mixing colors so they aren't right out of the tube. Hand-lettering. High graphics. Detailed minimalism. Good design. Focused subject matter.

I admit it. I've made one or two bad murals in the past, and I'm sorry. But I'll be ready next time if the opportunity should present itself. This is my vow to you, public arts enthusiast. 

Almost a year ago, I was at my parents' house and found all my beads and hemp necklaces from high school. Making really bad jewelry used to be one of my favorite pastimes.

The beads sat on a shelf in my closet for months, but I pulled them down about a month ago and made earrings until 2 am one morning.

This came at a time when I read something that asked, "What enjoyable activity makes you lose track of time?" and I could name ZERO. Even art was not on my list, at least not at that very moment. I couldn't think of any activity that took me away from checking my phone every two seconds.

I felt so bad about this. Something had to be done. 

It took a few days for me to open up those bead boxes and connect again to that joy or getting lost in something. And, for me, to do any activity other than watch Netflix at that hour is nothing short of a miracle. 

Since then I have had visions of making more elaborate pieces, but I don't know how. 

***

Last night I had a dream about visiting an exhibition where an artist displayed different beautiful beads and gems on the walls of a rectangular white room with high ceilings. Dim lighting spot-lighted the beads. They were for sale and a lot had been picked through. I was late to come to the exhibition. It was actually about to end, but there were still plenty of beautiful ones left to choose from. My hands were soon full.

***

This morning, I did a two minute internet search and emailed someone about taking a jewelry-making class. 

I had to wake up early the other morning to run errands in West Knoxville, a very rare outing for me during that time of day. It was the first really cold morning of the season, which always makes me feel nervous about the months ahead.

I'm in my car, heat blasting, drinking coffee, and find myself behind a car whose back window is rolled down so their Husky could stick its head out.

Soft rolling fur. Pink tongue dangling. Purest Joy. 

I will carry this image with me over the next few months.