Taking the Leap - Revisited (YET AGAIN)

I was organizing some photos on my hard drive the other day when I came across this picture of me from my engineering days. Hard hat, fire resistant coveralls, and a full gas mask – ready to inspect a distillation column in a chemical plant in Baton Rouge. I've posted it before, but it cracks me up, so you get to see it again:

Every time I see this photo, I am SOOOOO THANKFUL that I’m an artist now. BEYOND thankful, honestly. So thankful that sometimes I think I should frame it and hang it in my studio so that I have a daily reminder of how thankful I should be.

Because the girl in that photo was miserable. Really, truly, miserable.

For starters, this is what it looks like when I’m on the job now:

Big improvement, right? But that’s just gravy. Even when I’m stuck inside in my unfinished dungeon of a basement studio, I still feel blessed.

I realized the other day that I’ve actually been doing this art thing for a living now longer than I was an engineer. My job has become so much like eating and breathing that I don’t normally give it much thought – it’s just ME, it’s what I do.

But less than ten years ago I was a ball of stress, agonizing constantly about what I could do for a living that would make me happy, or at least less miserable. I went through a phase where I was going to go back to school for physical therapy, another where I was going to be an accountant (oh my, it’s embarrassing to even admit that), and another where I was convinced being an art teacher was the way to go. Art was my thing, even back then, but it took me a long time to decide that I was going to hang it all up and paint for a living – mainly because I was afraid.

See, I’m a closet security freak. I used to make a lot of “safe” decisions. I picked the sensible school, the sensible major, the sensible job, the sensible place to live, and figured since I was minimizing risk, everything would turn out well and life would be great. BIG surprise when I found out that the sensible job in the sensible place was pretty much awful! All of the sudden the floor dropped out from under me, and my perfectly planned life seemed like a big mistake.

Since then, Nate and I have both quit our jobs and moved around a lot, just trying things out. Some things worked for us, some didn’t. Some choices we made were kind of dumb and we laugh at them now (buying a house in Highlands Ranch – I’m talking to you!). Some things were wonderful surprises (moving down to Evergreen when we thought we’d be up in the mountains forever). Sometimes it was scary, a lot of times it’s stressful, and it’s always completely ambiguous this way - there is no road map when you decide to strike out on your own. And I’m not gonna lie, the art paycheck is lower than the corporate one was. Essentially, nothing is all that secure for us anymore, but I love it.

I love that I get to wake up, spend time laughing with my kids, then spend the hours while they are at school doing what I love. I love the process of creation. I love that even the business side of my art is an ever evolving process. I love that I don’t have all the answers. I love that sometimes, I can go hike to a crazy beautiful place with some good friends, laugh the whole time, do a painting, and call it work (okay, I confess - I usually feel sort of guilty on those days). And while Nate might not always love his job as much as I love mine (lawyers, accountants, and contracts, oh my!!), I think he loves the challenge of creating a business too. It’s a constantly moving target – always a challenge.

It’s not for everyone – this sort of job takes a lot of self-discipline and motivation, and pretty thick skin. Well, REALLY thick skin, actually. But in the end, I've gone from a very sensible, structured life, to something that resembles constant chaos – a beautiful mess, if you will. I’m never caught up, there are no guarantees, and sometimes I have to work really hard to stay positive when things are slow. But I think it’s good. No regrets.

I look at some of my blog posts about taking the leap from years ago, and I want to tell my younger self that it worked out okay. That it might not be how she envisioned it, but it works, and that she shouldn't be so freaked out about everything. That she should just breathe, and try to be more authentic.

Back then, this was my favorite quote, and I think it still is. It’s how I try to live my life:

"What we have is based upon moment-to-moment choices of what we do. In each of those moments, we choose. 

We either take a risk and move toward what we want, or we play it safe and choose comfort. Most of the people, most of the time, choose comfort. 

In the end, people either have excuses or experiences; reasons or results; buts or brilliance. 

They either have what they wanted or they have a detailed list of all the rational reasons why not." 

~ Anonymous

I found this one more recently, and it speaks to my inner security freak:

"Too many people are thinking of security instead of opportunity. They seem more afraid of life than death."  

- James F. Byrnes

So, there it is. I took that leap a while ago and it’s all right. It really is. And if you’re thinking of doing the same thing (or you already have), I hope you’re in for an awesome, wild ride.

Taking the Leap - Revisited

"Meadow Creek Spring"
Oil on Panel
12x16"
2008

WARNING: long, rambling post ahead... Sorry!!

Nate and I took a long walk in the woods last night, and while we were talking we realized that this week marks a year since we became a self-employed family!! I've been at it longer than he has, since I quit my job when I had Aspen a year and a half ago, but when he quit his corporate job a year ago it upped the ante for my art business. My art officially became one of the ways that we pay the bills, and we both embarked together on this crazy journey that we like to think of as following our dreams.

I'll admit that there have been ups and downs, and I've had my moments of lying awake at 3:00 in the morning wondering what the heck we've done, but I don't have any regrets, and I'd do it all over again if I had to. I've been a bit stressed out lately, mostly because the news is so negative these days - in my darkest moments I wonder if we made the right decision to do all of this. In all of my other moments, I KNOW it was the right decision.

I've been slowly going through the archives of this blog and categorizing my posts, and it's been a really positive experience to look back over the past few years and see where I've come from. When I started this blog two and a half years ago, I was lead process engineer on an $800 million scrubber project for an oil-sands refinery in Canada. I was frazzled with the stress of being in charge of the process design phase of such a huge project (hello - those are my initials on every drawing and calculation!), managing people for the first time, and dealing with the pressure of being the only female engineering lead on the project, not to mention the youngest by about twenty years. My life was defined by my climb up the corporate ladder, and I was heading for a nice job in project management. I made a lot more money than I do now, and I was completely miserable.

For reference, here I am, enjoying the scenery in the middle of an oil sands mine in Ft. MacMurray, Alberta (and this was a day with a GOOD view - normally I was sitting in a cubicle staring at a computer):


Actually, if you REALLY want to see how far I've come to get to this point, maybe I should rewind to my days working for big oil down in Texas. Here I am getting ready to inspect some equipment during a chemical plant shutdown in Baton Rouge, Louisiana - you know your job sucks when the chemicals are so dangerous that you have to dress like this:


Of course, we also spent a lot of time being really bored in the construction trailers, which was also not the best way to spend a day:


I was working for ExxonMobil at the time, and my job (when I wasn't inspecting equipment), was to design computer programs that would optimize the amount of money the plant would make on a given day, depending on things like oil prices, chemical sale prices, etc etc. It was incredibly unfulfilling, and I hated Houston, so we moved back to Colorado and I got a job designing pollution control systems for coal-fired power plants. More my style, but I still wasn't happy, and I started this blog to rant a bit about my job and talk about some of the things that made me happy, and it morphed into the art blog it is today.

When I look back at the girl I was then, I'm thankful that I was able to see how unhappy I was, and that I knew exactly what I really wanted to be doing. Before I got pregnant with Aspen, I had decided that I wanted to try and make it as an artist, and I started to get serious about taking the right steps to make it work. I think I first started talking about taking the leap in the two posts here and here. At the end of the first post where I talked about making a career change, I said the following:

"I don’t want to play it safe forever. I don’t want to have a long list of excuses someday. I’d rather aim for brilliance and fail than say I never tried for fear of exiting my comfort zone. I want to move forward - I want to choose experience over excuses."

When I read those words the other day, I was in the midst of a stressful day and they immediately gave me a sense of peace. I realized that over the past year and a half I've left the comfort zone and challenged myself, and I've had more wonderful experiences than I can count. I love my job with every inch of my being, and I'm content with my life. I have a beautiful, sweet daughter, a wonderful husband, and I'm living where I want to live. I'm surrounded by beauty every day, and I'm following the dream I've had since I was a child to be an artist. And in following that dream (and working with Nate to achieve his), I feel like I'm being the best role model I can possibly be as a mother. I'm blessed to have this opportunity, and I'm going to try my hardest to do my best at what I truly believe I'm meant to be doing.

Now, isn't it a good thing that I have this blog to remind me where I've come from? Nothing like a little reminder of my past life to move me from a place of stress to a place of peace!

Quote of the Week

"The Last to Change"
Oil on Panel
8x10"
2007




I'm a sucker for good quotes. I tear them out of magazines and write them down on scraps of paper, and fill my notes with them when I hear people speak. Some of them are too good to lose, so I'm going to start posting them here every once in a while.

I keep this one in my studio to remind me how blessed I am to be able to paint:

“You can only become truly accomplished at something you love. Don’t make money your goal. Instead, pursue the things you love doing, and then do them so well that people can’t take their eyes off you.” -Maya Angelou

Feeling Better

That's me standing on the hill just outside the kitchen of Nate's parents' house in the mountains, trying to catch a quick 6x8" sketch of the sunset. My audience is the daughter of some good friends, who actually had enough interest and patience to stand there and watch me do the entire painting! She's a great kid, and cute too - I painted her portrait a few years ago.

Anyhow, I just wanted to say thanks everyone for providing such encouraging comments on my last post! It's good to hear some positive thoughts from people in the business, and know that I'm not alone here. I spent about a day wallowing in negativity after that post, which surprisingly made me feel a lot better! After that I got back to work on pieces for my show, and I've been making a lot of progress.

I've got almost five weeks left until the opening, and so far I have 17 paintings done for the show. I'm aiming to have about 20 pieces, so I feel like I'm in pretty good shape right now. I'm planning to do one more 30x40" piece, and another 24x36" piece, which will probably each take about a week, and then I'm just planning to work on some smale 8x10" or 9x12" studies. Most of the paintings I have done are either framed, or at least ready to be framed in frames that I already have (don't get me started on the expense of framing an entire show all at once!!). I gave images to the gallery on Sunday to use for the mailer that will go out in a couple of weeks, and my SW Art ad has been designed and is ready for publication. I just have to finish the remaining paintings, get everything framed up, and get all the photos up on my website and the gallery website.

Once the paintings have been delivered, I think I'm going to take a week off and relax. I have some creative projects that I've been wanting to do around the house since we moved, and I'd love to have some time to do them. I think it would be nice to take a bit of a vacation from "work" too. I feel 100% blessed that I get to do this as my job, but it's hard work to be a fulltime artist AND a fulltime mom at the same time. I think by the end of this month I'll be ready for a rest!

If You Knew You Couldn't Fail?

"Moraine Park"
Oil on Birch Panel
16x20"
2007




When I was out yesterday I saw a sign that said, "What would you attempt if you knew you couldn't fail?"

What a great question.

What would YOU attempt if you knew you couldn't fail?

I would attempt to make a living being an artist. And being as that's what I'm doing right now, I feel good about my answer to this question, and the direction I'm taking my life right now.

I like security, so I've spent a lot of years doing things I didn't want to do because I feared failing at what I really wanted to do. Now that I'm doing what I've always wanted to do, I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off of my shoulders.

I feel free.

That's not to say that there haven't been scary moments in the past few months. Nate officially quit his job to work full-time at his house-building business, which means we're both self-employed, and that I have a bit of pressure to provide some income with my art. And between moving and traveling and Nate quitting his job, I've had a few moments where I've woken up at 3 am and wondered what the heck we're doing. But every morning I wake up and feel reassured that we're both doing what we're supposed to be doing right now, and that it will work out how it's supposed to work out.

It's nice to finally let go of that fear of failure, and jump right in!

Making Luck

"March, Lake Louise"
Oil on Canvas
22x28"
2007







I've spent a lot of time in the past year thinking about what I want my life to look like, and what it's going to take to get me there. Part of that is figuring out what being successful means to me as an artist.

Art is a part of me that has always been there and will always be - I've been drawing and painting since I can remember, and there was never a time that I didn't entertain the thought that I'd love to be an artist someday. I would be an artist even if I never sold a painting or made a penny. But I have to admit that a big part of my dream right now is to make a living from my art. I set business goals every year, and they are just as important to me as the process of painting itself. If I dropped the business side of my art, I would be heartbroken, because a part of my dream of being an artist is getting my artwork out into the world.

Since I desperately want my art business to succeed, I know that there are decisions that need to be made every day about how to best fit that goal into my life. How do I fit painting in while taking care of Aspen? How do I make my art business succeed and contribute to the well-being of my family?

Nate deals with a lot of the same questions. He has a full-time job, but he'd really like to quit and build houses for a living. He built three spec homes in the past year, and discovered that it was what he really loved to do. He loves working with his hands and being able to offer an affordable product in a market (mountain real estate) where not much is affordable.

Nate and I aren't big risk takers, so we knew that we were going to have to find a way to pursue both of our dreams without taking a huge risk financially, especially now that we have a child. One of the things we discussed as a way to make ourselves more comfortable would be to sell our current house and use the profit to put a big down payment on a cheaper house, making our mortgage payment a lot less. That way we wouldn't have to worry about cashflow so much, and we'd both be a lot more comfortable with changing things up career-wise.

So, we put our house on the market three weeks ago. We figured it might take a while to sell, so we didn't find another house to move into, but picked out some neighborhoods we liked. Last weekend we got an offer on our house, and with closing set for May 18th it was time to get in gear and find a place to move. We found a house we liked last Thursday and put in an offer, and now we have closing all set for the same day as the sale of our house.

Since this all happens three weeks from now, things are going to get hectic. We have to find movers that are willing to store our stuff for a few days (we don't get possession of the new house until three days after closing), we have to schedule the inspections and appraisals (we're not working with a realtor), and in the middle of it all we're going to Texas for a week to visit relatives and attend the Oil Painter's of America National show opening. I don't know when I'm going to find the time to paint, but I'm determined not to let it slip. I'm still trying to build inventory so I can approach some new galleries, and I don't want that to come to a screeching halt just because we're moving.

Anyhow, the point of this really long rambling post is to say two things. First, I'm going to be unbelievably busy for the next month. Second (and most important), I don't believe that luck happens - I believe that you make it for yourself with the decisions you make. Luann Udell said this much more eloquently in her post on April 10th. The point is this - the average American thinks that Nate and I are odd for selling a nice house that we can afford perfectly well, and moving into a smaller cheaper house (seems like the American dream is to supersize everything these days), but our main priority right now is making our life what we want it to be, and we're taking the steps necessary to get there. I call it making luck, and hopefully it works!

Taking the Leap

I’ve been dreaming of being an artist for what seems like my entire life. If you had asked me when I was 12 what I wanted to be when I grew up, I would have undoubtedly answered that I wanted to be an artist. There was never any question.

Somewhere along the way, I lost touch with that dream and took a big detour into engineering. Now I’m digging myself out of that hole, and feeling like I’m on the right track once again, but it’s been tough. I’ve been painting seriously for three years now, and while my work has improved immeasurably, there haven’t been any tangible milestones to imply that I might be on my way to the realization of that childhood dream.

To a point though, I’m the one who determines my success or failure at this venture, and my lack of progress so far is a direct result of my actions (or inaction, to be more accurate).

“The most difficult thing is the decision to act, the rest is merely tenacity. The fears are paper tigers. You can do anything you decide to do. You can act to change and control your life; and the procedure, the process is its own reward.” — Robyn Davidson

So, I’ve decided it’s time to act, and this past weekend was my weekend to start.

I got a kick in the pants on Friday when a gallery in the mountains found my work through a painting organization I belong to, and contacted me about the possibility of showing my work. I have a meeting set up in a few weeks to show them my paintings in person – hopefully they like them as much in real life as they did on the web!

Thanks to Nate gloating about my acceptance into the OPA show, I also ended up showing my website to a gallery owner downtown who I highly respect and trust. My work isn’t to the point that he would think of representing me (he carries a lot of very established, well-known landscape painters), but I value his opinion very much and he seemed pleasantly surprised by the quality of my work.

So the good thing is that I learned that having gallery owners view my work isn’t the big, scary thing I had thought it might be. The world didn’t end. I didn’t face immediate rejection. And best of all, some doors might have opened that were previously locked closed due to my fear of failure.

With the boost of self-confidence that came from the gallery contact, I spent the weekend assembling my marketing materials and portfolio for a few other opportunities. I sent off a package to apply for a weeklong painting residency in Southern Colorado, offered as a contest by a prominent magazine. Then I took what to me seemed to be a big leap and sent off another package to a prominent arts publication, asking them to consider featuring my work in one of their yearly emerging artist features.

Every inch of my being fought me as I put together the materials for both submissions – my brain was trying desperately to convince me that I wasn’t worthy, that it was a waste of time, that they would laugh at my submission or throw it in the trash. But I decided that I’ve spent too many years listening to those voices, and that it was time to make a move. I figure it’s better to try than to never give myself the opportunity, right?

So, here I go, fingers crossed that some of these opportunities work out. Even if they don’t, I’ve taken my first steps. And those first steps will take me farther than staying in place ever will.

“The way to develop self-confidence is to do the thing you fear and get a record of successful experiences behind you. Destiny is not a matter of chance, it is a matter of choice; it is not a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved.” — William Jennings Bryant

Experience or Excuses?

Seems like I haven’t been doing much other than work lately. I took the week off after Christmas and had a fabulous time painting, getting my website updated, and getting back on track with running and swimming. I’ve been paying for it ever since I returned – I’m completely buried in work!

After working all weekend and staying at the office late the past three nights, I’ve come to the conclusion that this is just not what I want to do long-term.

Well, okay – I’d already reached that conclusion a long time ago, but sometimes I like my job for a minute and think to myself, “Well, they pay me pretty well so it can’t be that bad, right?” Sometimes the comfort of having a nice steady job is appealing, you know?

But I just don’t think that’s what life is all about. The past few weeks have jolted me back to reality. It’s painfully obvious that in the field I’m in, career advancement means more responsibility which means more work which means more stress. And I just don’t know how intelligent I would be if I knowingly chose to devote my life to that for the next few decades.

Fact is, I want to have time to do the things I like to do outside of work. I want to eventually have a family and be able to see them every once in a while. And I want to give my art a serious chance, not just as another hobby.

So I think this is the year that I make an honest effort at trying to make something of my art. It’s not like I’m losing anything by trying – I don’t have to quit my job to try it, I just need to rearrange my priorities for a year. If that means I have to spend most of my spare time painting and marketing, so be it. It’s worth it to give it a try. And at the end of the year it won’t be a “What if?” anymore – it’ll be a yes or no.

I read this quote on Wil’s blog a long time ago, and I love the way it speaks to me:

“What we have is based upon
moment-to-moment choices of what we do.
In each of those moments, we choose.

We either take a risk
and move toward what we want,
or we play it safe and choose comfort.
Most of the people, most of the time, choose comfort.

In the end, people either have
excuses or experiences;
reasons or results;
buts or brilliance.

They either have what they wanted
or they have a detailed list
of all the rational reasons why not."

~ Anonymous

I don’t want to play it safe forever. I don’t want to have a long list of excuses someday. I’d rather aim for brilliance and fail than say I never tried for fear of exiting my comfort zone.

I want to move forward - I want to choose experience over excuses.