Letters From Paris

This post will likely tie in somewhat with my previous post titled What Do I Desire, but that’s okay.  Etsy‘s Facebook page posted a link to their blog sharing an interview with an artist, Janice MacLeod.  Here is that link: Quit Your Day Job: The Paris Letters by JaniceArtShip.  Please do read the article, it’s not long, but summarized it’s about a lady who, unhappy in her ordinary office job, quit, moved to Paris, and began painting and writing letters as her business and means of supporting herself.  Not only is this flat-out awesome, it’s also, dare I say, inspirational.

Being the crazy, unrealistic dreamer-person that I am, the idea of ditching everything and hauling myself across the planet to make a start at life with no real plans in place is terribly appealing, even if it is slightly terrifying at the same time.  Believe me, for the past several months I’ve threatened my family with everything from becoming a gypsy and traveling the world, to buying an RV and exploring America, to moving back to England to do goodness-knows-what, to my latest obsession of traveling to and living in Utah (you wouldn’t believe how many cool people live in Utah and the nearby surrounding areas…).

With this article, though, there is hope.  All my lovely schemes and plans are largely plans of escape, whether physical, mental, or both.  I long for escape and freedom, and if it takes moving to Utah to get it I’m almost to the point of doing it (not quite though, don’t panic, don’t panic.).  In all seriousness though, two of the things I’ve loved doing for a very long time are painting and writing, and this lady has managed to do both and make a living and live in a foreign country to boot.  I think that’s amazing.

So, if anyone needs me, you will find me interning with her in Paris.  Soon after, I shall open a second branch in the UK and have a jolly time and do something I love while earning money (take that, person in previous post who said I couldn’t earn a living doing art…)(yes, I was told this several years ago, and yes, it still bothers me somewhat.)(and yes, I also really like to use parentheses).  🙂

Please, please, please visit her shop and buy a subscription to her letters if you can.  Or buy just one.  Buy some for your friends.  Support a really cool, not-so-local artist, and help her keep doin’ what she’s doin’.  People like her are the kind of people who give people like me little glimmers of hope in life.  Always support artists.  Prove everyone wrong, that you can make a living with art!


What Do I Desire

I recently saw this video posted somewhere on Facebook, and it instantly intrigued me.  I’m at a point in my tiny life where my brain and my heart are often a bit at odds.  I hear my photo teacher tell me that she’s actually easy on us and we’re in for a shock once we get to the real world.  I’ve heard a previous student say that life’s much harder once out of school, that people are much tougher out there than in the classroom.  I once had someone I respected tell me that you can’t make a living doing art.  These things are crushing to a slightly head-in-the-clouds dreamer like me who’s trying to believe in a wonderful future of some sort.  And frankly, after hearing all these things, that wonderful future seems to be only a little wisp of fog, barely there and impossible to grab.

On the one hand, I believe the people who say life isn’t all fun and games, that you can’t properly make a living doing art instead of taking on a normal, everyday job.  I generally believe now that I’m not good enough to make it at art anyway, which should technically solve the problem right there.  I know life isn’t always easy.  I understand that.  We as humans do not always get our way (boy do I know that…), and sometimes we have to brave a couple of storms before we get to the sunny weather.

But my little dreaming heart can’t hep but wonder, “Is that it?  Is that all we’re meant to do, to suffer at a job we hate merely for a paycheck, to never enjoy what we do?  There has to be a way to survive and be happy at the same time.”

I don’t know if my little heart is right or not.  I certainly hope so.  I like to think that, one day, in the near future preferably, I’ll be able to do something I enjoy for a living.  Maybe not art, but something.  Maybe one day I’ll become a master of this something, or a master in my art (although I doubt it).  Maybe.  We’ll see.  Until then I guess I keep doggy paddling, try to keep afloat, try not to drown entirely in all these waves.  The sun has to come out eventually…or that’s my hope, anyway.  One day…