Once an Artist, Always an Artist
I don’t know about y’all, but this second quarter of the year has absolutely flown by for me.
January through March felt quieter, slower, maybe even a little more guarded. I was deep in reflection and the painting process during this time, creating some of the biggest and most diverse work I have made to-date, and processing through lifetimes of grief (it felt like).
But then April came and the warmer weather seemed to be coaxing me out of my shell, shifting my gaze from inward to outward. I have still been painting, but my production has slowed. I can sense that I am shifting into a different stage of the creative cycle.
I have been feeling a bit overwhelmed by the buzz of activity, feeling as if I am always behind and getting very little done. The truth is, though, that so much has happened in the last three months and the flurry of activity has left little time for processing the moments.
As I write this, I am remembering that in the last three months I have hit multiple milestones in my art career.
In April, my mural, “Call me Crazy”, debuted at the 10th Anniversary ArtFields Art Competition in Lake City, South Carolina.
This moment was huge for me. This was my first time having my work shown in a juried show, shown alongside some of the most talented and inspiring artists in the southeastern region. I was blown away by this experience and what the folks of Lake City are doing to support southern art and artists. This competition changed me. I have another blog post talking about the whole experience that I share here.
At the beginning of May, a piece from my new collection that I have yet to share anywhere else, “She”, debuted at the Kingsport Art Guild for the Appalachian Regional Exhibit.
This was my second juried show to be entered into and it, too, felt surreal. I entered two pieces to be shown, one “safe” piece (a piece that was bold, and expressive, but what I considered to be easier to digest for the general public) and one “risky” piece (one that felt bolder and more raw). I was hesitant in applying to this show from the beginning because I have been told by people in this area before that my work “scares them”. I wasn’t sure how the two pieces would be received, if at all. Much to my surprise, the “riskier” piece was chosen to exhibit in the show. This moment felt very validating for the work I have felt pushed to pursue.
Currently, for the month of June, another new piece from my new collection, “Home in her Self”, is on display at The Emporium in Knoxville, TN as part of the Dogwood Arts Regional Exhibit.
This is my third juried show to be entered into after having been previously denied entry to this exhibition in the past. Again, this moment was hugely validating for the work I am currently feeling pushed to create, and also validating to my personal growth as an artist. While I am still struggling with my imposter syndrome as I see my work hanging next to such incredibly talented and experienced artists, I am still overwhelmed with gratitude for the opportunities. (If you are in Knoxville, the show is up through June 25th! Be sure to stop and check it out.)
These were experiences that, when I was a teenager dreaming of being an artist one day, I always believed would mark the moment that I had “arrived” as an actual artist.
For the longest time I struggled to call myself “a real artist” because I had not ever done anything that I felt made me “worthy” of that title. I made art, sure, but that didn’t make me an artist! (18 year old Marcy was funny like that)
It wasn’t until 2019 that I would actually start claiming that title for myself, and even then it was with hesitation.
Now I have no problems telling people that I am an artist - but am I any more of an artist now than I was when I was 18? No, of course not.
The second quarter of the year brought with it huge milestones for me, all of which I am so incredibly grateful for and still reeling from, but it is during these moments that I have to remind myself that even if I were to never sell another painting or to never share another painting publicly ever again, I would still be an artist.
Yes, these moments are big milestones, yes, they feel very validating, but the truth is, and what I always tell my daughter, is that my relationship to my work is all that matters in the end.
That being said, I can’t help but feel like 18 year old Marcy did not dream big enough. 33 year old me has much bigger plans for the future and is excited to see where else this path leads.
And I cannot thank you enough for being here and sharing this journey with me.