Today I start to write a journal on the life of an artist. I want to document it so that my life feels real. As an artist nothing really feels real in terms of what value society puts on life.It is difficult to separate yourself from these opinions which are reinforced by media in so many ways. Life seems to be driven by the accumulation of money. As much as I would like to have money, it is not my driving force to work. I don’t work for anyone so I have no one cracking the whip so to speak either.
I work so that my art is recognised for the intention of which it was made. When you are working within the realms of social media this intention gets lost in the cut-throat world of marketing and business and in the shear masses of artwork out there. Every artist is trying to find a small space in which to shine and here it is so easy to get lost.
Yesterday I asked a student dancer to describe her day to me. It was mapped out so easily from lectures to practises that incorporated her passion for dancing for a good 8 hours of the day. I realised my day can so easily be lost in the many responsibilities I have. I try to give it a routine so that I don’t spend a disproportionate amount of time on things that are not important to my art.
At the moment I have so many family and work related commitments that I am battling to get into my studio. Everything seems so important …which it is. But as an artist if I don’t work, I don’t achieve my goal and then I don’t have the self worth that keeps me alive. My life becomes less than real. Days turn into weeks and I become more and more frustrated and eventually depression sets in. The antidote is to work. To find that space in my head where passion lives. If I am not in this space my life becomes nothing. For me this is the scariest place to be. This is my greatest fear.