Creative Path Studio: Trish Roque’s blog, studio, and musings on living a purpose-filled life.

Can I really do this? I think I should try.

Today’s entry is, guess who?

A number of my entries in my media diary center on the theme of making art. (In fact, a number of my entries are the art pieces themselves.) Art and the process of making art (digitally or traditionally) are themes that consistently appear in my life, regardless of whether I’m forced to write in a media diary or not.

What sparked this theme this time have been the images I’ve made for my digital art class. They are images that I’ve worked hard to render the final results for. It has undoubtedly made me ask some questions about the process of making art with a computer and the difference I feel from making art in the traditional, non-digital methods.

These questions have led me to some predictable and some surprising thoughts that I’ve found to ring true for me: (your own experiences may be different…)

1. Making art with a computer is a results-driven process. It is about the final image. This contrasts with what originally drew me to make art initially. Drawing, printmaking, and sculpture are not necessarily about the results (though getting a good image is always a nice bonus) – but about the process itself. Drawing is more about seeing and observing than about getting an exact representation on paper. Sculpture is about playing with mud. And printmaking – well, I just love the smell of ink, the feel of good 100% rag paper, and turning that press.
2. What I see on the computer is NOT always what I get, as in: “Wow that looked sooo good on the monitor but what the heck happened to the mid-range???” It’s a frustrating struggle to reconcile what I see on the monitor with the final 2-dimensional tangible result on paper. I experienced that frustration with my final print project.
3. The marks made with a computer are usually a reflection of the results I am after and a good indication of how well I know the application. The marks made with drawing, painting, and sculpture are usually a reflection of my current state of mind. A confident line is markedly different from a hesitant one.
4. Making art with a computer is usually a solitary process. Contrary to popular stereotypes, there are a number of traditional media that lend themselves to working among peers. Printmaking is a wonderful example. Many printmakers who don’t own their own press will usually join a print studio, where working in a group is common. Camaraderie is what I miss the most. Drawing from life is another example. Most artists will draw with groups and though most of the time is spent concentrating on drawing, those breaks can lead to some pretty interesting conversations. When was the last time you made digital art in a group? (Lab time in class does not count!)
5. It’s much easier to carry a sketch book than a computer regardless of how light the laptop is. Because after all, what happens when the battery dies and there are no electric outlets in the middle of the campground?
6. Computers make me swear. A LOT!
7. I really miss making art the traditional way.

A visitor to my site recently emailed me to ask this question:

Is drawing and making a living doing it, dead..? Is it nothing more than a pipe dream..?

I want to share my response because the issues of self-doubt and discouragement that he brings up are so relevant to many individuals who are trying to heed their calling. Here was my response to him:

Thanks for writing and sharing your experiences with me. In many ways I understand where you are coming from though I have not had the misfortune of meeting people who have discouraged me so bluntly. The only thing I can say about people like the instructor and writer you met is to pass on a quote I read somewhere: “Those who don’t follow their dreams discourage others from following their dream.”

It’s easy to internalize what these people have to say especially when one’s own doubts already exist. I’m just as guilty of this but I try not to listen to people like them. I try to remember the quote above and continue on as though I have not been affected by their words.

The short answer to your question is yes, it is possible to make a living from doing what you love, from drawing. I know this because I have met and become friends with people who are already making a good living from drawing, and from being an artist in general. I sought these folks out intentionally because I knew I could learn from them. I think it is important to be surrounded by people who can be role models. Just as it is true that people who don’t follow their dreams discourage you from following yours, those who are following their calling, encourage everyone they meet to do the same. Take a look at the work of some of the artists who are making a good living from their art and who I was fortunate enough to meet: Sherrie McGraw, David Leffel, Michael Bergt, Star York, Donna Howell-Sickles and Jeff Brock. These are just some of the people I met when I lived in Santa Fe. It took having to move to a place where I was surrounded by artists to get that inspiration.

I think the biggest lesson that I have yet still to learn is that there is no one formula to becoming an artist. Each of these folks I met found their own paths. I think you have to do the same and you must be persistent. Just keep doing what you love and don’t let anyone’s words discourage you. Just keep drawing. Move to a place where you are surrounded by like-minded people who will encourage you. The one thing you need to have to follow your dreams is courage. Take risks and dare to defy the people who told you that you couldn’t make it as an artist.

In the meantime, here’s an online community that I think you will find inspiration from: http://www.dannygregory.com/. He runs a yahoo group called Everyday Matters where ordinary folks encourage each other to keep drawing and stay creative. I’ve also recently discovered the writings of Robert Fritz. He writes about creativity from a perspective that I find refreshing. It’s worth a read just to cleanse yourself from the words of those toxic people in your life. Here are some quotes from his book that I wrote in my blog: http://creativepathstudio.com/blog/2007/05/30/liberating-thoughts/

I hope my words helped. I certainly don’t have the answers and I still struggle at times to stay true to my own calling. But I think in the end you will find that your dream will continue to pester you until you’ve given it your full attention. It will not go away regardless of how many times you let yourself be talked out of it because of other people’s words. You have to at least try, even if it takes your whole life to make it a reality.

Although I could argue that the best gift is really a BMW F650 GS (for me), the video I saw today convinced me otherwise. All kidding aside, this video put life into much needed perspective - including how indulgent and luxurious a BMW F650 GS really is.

Robert Thompson, the man who created the short film, is a violinist living in China with his wife. He apparently grew up in the awesome Maxwell Park neighborhood of Oakland, where Jon and I bought our house a couple of years ago. Actually, a neighbor from the Maxwell Park listserve gets the credit for posting the link. In the midst of the negative news that often floods our listserve, she wanted to share a positive, uplifting story.

Be prepared to cry:

4 Generations Video

My apprenticeship began this week, and although I will not be working with the elephants, as I originally hoped, I am not disappointed.

I’ve been assigned to String 7, where I work with goats, sheep, pigs, rabbits, tropical birds, and lemurs. I spent my first weekend familiarizing myself with the daily chores of the zookeeper: preparing diets (i.e. chopping veggies & fruit), cleaning enclosures, observing the animals for general health, and getting a glimpse of the individual personalities of these critters.

For instance, I’ve learned first hand that Felix the goat does not particularly care for women. He let me know by head-butting me the first day. So now, I don’t turn my back on him. Then there’s Joanna and her buddy, Polly, the Vietnamese pot-bellied pigs. They are both old, grumpy ladies, and they are nice to you if you have a bowl of food in your hands. Otherwise, well… suffice to say you better have a bowl in your hand.

Then, there are the sweet, adorable lemurs. I’m slowly learning to differentiate among the lemurs, but Chester is one I can’t miss. He’s hormonally challenged and has a pair of man-boobs. He’s a favorite among the zookeepers because he’s a sweetheart - and, well, he’s kind of amusing to watch.

He sits there, usually on his haunches, comfortably resting his arms on his “arm holders”.The photo on the right is not the best because I did not want to get too close to him and startle him. I’m in their space and I need to respect that.

But this is what I love most about these lemurs: they are sun-worshippers, just like me. Look at them:

They apparently follow the path of the sun along the ledge, and sit worshipping all day long.

It’s been an interesting start so far. Once I get the routine down, I’ll have more time to focus on the required project. It will probably include some kind of enrichment for the lemurs, since I am finding myself drawn to them.

Stay tuned for more…

I’ve been thinking about writing this post for quite a while now but procrastination seemed easier. It’s a tough topic for me to write about because it’s a quest that I take to heart. The search gets tiring, and sometimes, I just don’t have the energy.

What is my bliss?

I’ve been on this quest since the day I promised myself that I would not work just for money. I remember that evening quite well, even though it was over 20 years ago.

I was watching the PBS series on Joseph Campbell’s The Power of Myth with Bill Moyers. I was in high school, maybe sixteen years old at the time.

I was completely drawn into the messages Joseph Campbell gleaned from decades of research on the various mythological stories of the hero and the hero’s journey. The one message (and he had many) that hit me in that space of absolute knowing power was this: “Follow your bliss.“

From that evening forward, I was determined to live my life with passion, to follow my bliss. What did not occur to me at the time was that finding my bliss was the first critical step. I assumed I knew what it was — that is, to be an artist.

I thought, “I don’t know whether my consciousness is proper consciousness or not; I don’t know whether what I know of my being is my proper being or not; but I do know where my rapture is. So let me hang on to rapture, and that will bring me both my consciousness and my being.”

–Joseph Campbell

I tried it and the rapture was, well, inconsistent…

After four years of college, I moved to Santa Fe, New Mexico, where I followed what I though was my bliss for six years. I loved living in New Mexico - I loved the simplicity of my life, I loved the landscape, I loved the serenity I found, I loved the people I met. And most of the time, I loved making art. But I did not feel the rapture.

There were also times when I felt the rapture with other endeavors - for instance, when I hiked the wilderness with my canine companions. There was nothing that compared to the feeling of being atop that 12,000-feet high Mt. Baldy, just BEING with the mountain, the sky, the wind, the sun, and my dogs.

Yet it is important to note that following one’s bliss, as Campbell saw it, isn’t merely a matter of doing whatever you like, and certainly not doing simply as you are told. It is a matter of identifying that pursuit which you are truly passionate about and attempting to give yourself absolutely to it. In so doing, you will find your fullest potential and serve your community to the greatest possible extent.

–Joseph Campbell Foundation website

After determining that art-making was really not my life’s calling, I packed my Toyota, and at that point, my one dog Siwa (beautiful Smokie had passed away), and headed further west to California.

Getting lost and finding my way back

After arriving in the Bay Area, I found myself in a situation that I promised I would never put myself in - to take a job just for the money. I suppose I didn’t have a choice at the time, given that I had rent of $1,000 per month and credit card bills that funded my move. Regardless, I did not make it to a year at the job. I had to quit because the job was killing my spirit.

Forward to five years later, on the eve of my sixth anniversary in the Bay Area, and my search for meaningful work, my bliss, continues.

While I enjoy my current occupation of freelance designer and part-time webmaster at a university department, I KNOW that I do not feel the rapture. I continue to hike in the East Bay hills, and though these parks are quite beautiful and serene, I do not feel that same sense of BEING that I felt in the high mountains of Santa Fe. No rapture there.

However, these hills provide me with the quiet and solitude that I need to listen. It has been a challenging six years in the Bay Area, and only recently have I heard my inner voice again. I believe I am slowly finding my way back from being lost…

Continuing the search for meaningful work

I believe my story is more common than it is rare. It is the fortunate individual who knows from a very early age what his or her calling is. And I mean, truly knows — from the depths of their inner being. I can honestly say that I did not know what I would be when I grew up. Like many ten-year olds, I had a range of responses, from astronaut to pilot to veterinarian.

At 34, I continue my search.

While I don’t necessarily prescribe to Steve Pavlina’s method of finding my life purpose, I have recently been moved to tears by issues involving animals and wildlife. I felt that tug, that feeling in my gut that I’ve been called to action.

I am in the process of acting upon this feeling. I will share more once I see results.

Why not art?

I find it somewhat ironic that I’ve been enjoying my art class so much, yet, I do not feel that it is my bliss. For me, art-making is merely, for me.

I derive great pleasure in interacting with other sentient beings, preferably, the non-human kind (and I don’t mean computers!). I think it is my need for this interaction that prevents art-making from feeling blissful.

Anyone who knows me knows how much I love animals. Perhaps I can turn that love into a life of following my bliss!