Who am I

     

    I have taken some time to reflect and there were many moments when this blog when pop into mind. Things I wanted to write about or express. I realized that my past blog posts are not actually representative of who I am. That is not how I would write in my journal, my journal has always been a space for reflection and deep thoughts, not a walk through of my day. Grad school has been insane lately and I feel like I am hanging on by a thread. Sometimes I hope that I get hit by a car when I'm walking to school so I can get out of doing our fall show but I know that is literally so stupid and take it back. I feel like I don't know who I am anymore, I am a shell of who I once was. I don't have any hobbies and I when I'm not working on a project, I am just wasting away on my phone. I am grateful for my phone of course, otherwise I would be so out of touch with my friends and family, but it seems like a bigger distraction nowadays. I have spent four months working on a big project and I mean like, working on it almost every day for hours. It's definitely out of my normal comfort zone, something I am experimenting with. It's no where close to being finished and that is a problem. Our fall show is on Monday and I have nothing to show. I wish I could be like the artists who work fast, produce a piece in a couple of days or less and then show up to critique with 100 pieces everywhere. I am just not that way, I think the way I view art is poisoned. My paintings would take months to finish and so maybe I am just used to creating pieces that absorb all of my time. But I also struggle to view pieces created in such a short span of time "fine art" and I am trying to be a fine artist after all. I know that is skewed and no longer aligned with modern mentality but I can't shake it. I think my husband contributes to that too so it's hard to break out of the bubble. One night, I had a spark and created an entire piece in probably 7 hours. I hadn't felt so alive and excited in so long, I was running around my studio, throwing things everywhere, creating like a madman. I remembered why I chose this in the first place, the feelings I used to feel when I would create. The piece I made was something I was proud of, proud enough to include it in my solo show I was preparing for. There were definitely areas that could have probably been improved with more time but I liked it, the rawness and vulnerability I felt I captured. My husband hated it and said nothing I create in a day could be considered in the same space with the rest of the work I create. It made me upset at the time and obviously I still think about that conversation. It was a mindset I was already fighting with myself, telling myself the thoughts aren't true and then he confirmed everything I was worried about. I haven't felt that spark while creating again. Anyways, this project has taken me FOUR months. FOUR MONTHS. I am no where near the end and sometimes I feel like I do these things to myself as a sort of punishment. Why I can't paint abstracted, why I can only paint realistically with brushes so small you can barely see the bristles. Why (!) am I like this? So I'm in critique today with a visiting artist we meet with frequently. We see her the most often out of the revolving artists always coming in and out, meeting us and critiquing us all in 30 minutes. She knows me the best and knows my work. I love her and I value her opinion. I was very excited to show her my project. I don't know what exactly I imagine but it definitely included some affirmations that I was on the right track. Instead, I showed her and she said, "Why would anyone want to interact with this?" I was like, actually, that is a great question,  I don't know. I just imagined they would but why? Then I started thinking, why am I creating any of the things I do? Of course I have my elevator speech of what I talk about when I'm asked. It's about identity, it's about the way we are perceived as people, it's about what makes us turn out the way we do. Am I making work that is only relatable to me and people within my circle? Am I wasting my time? I knew grad school was going to be hard. I imagined a lot more tears and mean words and harsh critiques. I didn't imagine that a single question could make me feel like I'm crumbling. How stupid of me! I don't even know what I am doing here anymore. What do I want? Truly. I have some ideas but they feel shallow and lack substance. I want to live on my family farm where I can garden just like my grandma. I want to be surrounded by my family, each of us having our own home built next to each other on the land we grew up visiting. I want to bake and share it with everyone and enjoy meals together. Mom and grandma visited recently and there was a moment that just felt so pure, I almost can't explain it. The three of us working in the kitchen together, one preparing the vegetables, the other doing dishes, the other stirring what was boiling on the stove, all working in unison and just happy to be in each others company. That is what I want. I want to do art for fun again and have ideas that I can just do and be happy with because I love them rather than seeking validation from everyone else, trying to confirm what I am doing is fine art and not craft. I want happiness, I want purpose, I want to feel full again. I feel like I am empty, a shell floating around. I don't know who I am.