It’s official. I’m out and about in Columbia, South Carolina. Throughout the past month, I’ve been applying to every art thing imaginable. Open calls for artwork, gallery exhibition proposals, artist residencies, and yes, art markets. A week ago I received an overwhelmingly positive response, particularly from art markets. And so all throughout May, June, July, and August, I’ll be showing off my paintings and prints in downtown Columbia and nearby counties. It has been.. A learning experience for sure. When I was 16, I did art markets in downtown Ocala, FL, though something feels different now. I remember being a kid, standing beside my paintings and drawings, and patrons would pass by. They would ask me, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” They would ask me about prospective colleges, future plans, and where art fits into it. I would hold up my chin, and say with gusto: I’m going to make art my career. Other’s do it, and if I don’t, someone else will take my space. So I have to make sure it’s me. But plans easily and quickly change when responsibilities set in. I’m a rational-minded person, and at every step, I allowed doubt to cloud my judgment. I told myself that I needed a “sensible” career, despite the constant nagging in the back of my head: I want to be an artist.
And it did. I'm learning to swim. Learning a new way to be alive. I believe the universe put me on this path for a reason. I felt so unfulfilled in my previous career. I felt needed and important, but I didn’t feel happy. I felt constant friction between what my soul wanted and what my mind wanted. My mind wanted safety. My soul wanted purpose.
I had a lot of fun creating these affirmation cards. The concept behind them is that it’s concealed in an envelope that has something you need to hear. Some encouragement or kindness. The patron picks a card (1-5) and takes the corresponding letter. I’ve always been a fan of something being “meant to be” or decided by fate, and these little cards are just one little way to have fate intervene and give you a little message.
I usually save painting for the end of the day, though I’m feeling the itch to create now. We’ll chat again soon. With love, Jen Carmiel
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I’m settling into a cozy spot in my apartment here in Columbia, South Carolina. It’s warmer outside than I remember it being since I first moved here two months ago. This morning I opened up the door to my patio and was immediately greeted with warm, hot sunlight. It was weirdly reminiscent of Florida. I had my coffee while reading a fantasy-romance novel. It’s the one book that’s been sitting on my shelf that I’ve been meaning to finish, though life kept getting in the way. As I sit writing this, it’s Sunday afternoon. I just finished a short painting session in my studio. There’s a lot of learning happening. I’m starting to approach marketing my artwork (and myself), and embracing the ebbs and flows of life as an artist. To embrace the swing and a miss. And not let it get to me.
It's an interesting position to be in. Creating one collection, marketing it and showing it off, while also working on something new behind the curtain. One of my favorite habits while working in my studio is to spend the last two hours experimenting and painting something new. Something unexpected. This afternoon I opened up my canvas pad and created some sketches. They’re these beautiful, red-lined portraits with a colorful wash. When I showed one to my boyfriend, he said it looked like watercolors.
I call her “Daydreamer.” This girl sits, relaxes, closing her eyes gently. There’s something pouring through her mind. These thoughts don’t bother her. No, she loves these thoughts. There’s something special about spending time with yourself, and pouring through each and every little corner of a concept. To thoroughly understand and make friends with it. So she lets the thoughts ebb and flow. Something truly marvelous will come from it. This, she knows.
Soon, I will start photographing and preparing these for prints as well. I have a handful of art markets coming up in May, June, July, and August. I’m so excited to see the city of Columbia, and introduce myself as an artist here.
Before I go, I wanted to share a little something I was thinking about. The pull, the tugging feeling that captures me when I work on my artwork. I have to follow that feeling. Wherever life decides to take me, that’s fine. But I’m finding that feeling, and moving towards it no matter the cost. That’s what it means to be an artist, I think. Moving towards that feeling, the feeling of awe when you share something meaningful. And continuing to, no matter the cost, because what would life be without sharing your world with others. Good morning, readers. This morning started slowly, for me at least. How did it start for you? I brought a glass of water to my outdoor patio and watched the sun rise through the tree branches. My favorite thing these days is watching nature move at its own pace outdoors. It makes me a little envious if I’m being honest. To have societally approved permission to move at your own pace. In today’s world, it seems like everything is always encouraging you to move faster. So, this week, I’m challenging myself to move slower. At this point it has been a month and a half since I quit my career in property management and committed myself to my art career. It’s been a month and a half since I started creating art after (virtually) a two year break. Two years where I was moving on autopilot through life, lost about who I was, and fulfilling obligations and responsibilities. Living within the box that I unwittingly stepped inside. Now, I sit surrounded by oil paintings in my home studio. The artwork keeps stacking higher and higher. I’m running out of storage room, and browse shops for cabinets, drawers, and drying racks for my artwork. I am just in awe at what I’ve accomplished during this short amount of time. I’ll share some pieces for you to view as well. This is a series, still currently in progress, which I call BREATHING. These paintings depict: Feminine joy, freedom, and overcoming expectations to find yourself. Let me tell you a little bit about the process behind these works. Before I start painting, I create a box for my subject. As the painting emerges, the box is wiped away, and other times it remains stubborn. I think of this box as the boxes that others try to fit you into at first glance, or perhaps the box you create for yourself. The expectations, the limitations, that you have to break outside of. At time’s it’s easy to care about those expectations, and try to fit inside. Other times, you have no choice but to break outside the box and be yourself. These paintings focus on female figures. What are the expectations of a woman? I'm constantly exploring the inner workings of what we expect of ourselves, and how that affects how we show up to the world. The experience of acknowledging the box we're fitting into, and breaking out of it. And how breaking out creates the joy we're searching for. The colors are vibrant, exploring the joys in life, the joys of being free of the box, and being yourself fully. A little bit of history here, if you'll allow me to break off on a tangent. This work is inspired by the yin and yang, otherwise known as masculine and feminine polarity work. When looking at masculine and feminine polarity work, the feminine is river. The masculine is the riverbank. Now, all individuals have both the masculine and feminine inside them. Polarity work is about balancing those forces inside you. The feminine wants to play, to be free, and joyous. The masculine is law, boundaries, and protection. At least, that’s how I understand it. If someone out there has a different understanding, and would like to share material with me, I’m always looking for more books to read.
Anyway, that’s enough rambling for today. Let me know which of these is your favorite. I always love to chat about art, so don’t hesitate to send me an email with any questions or conversation starters. I’ll be here. Speak soon. Oh! Did you join my email list? Click here to get notifications about when I make certain milestones in my art journey.
Good morning, readers. It is 8:50AM, as I write. I woke up earlier than usual today. Feeling peaceful and eager to create. I had some cinnamon toast and water out on the patio, watching the sun start to rise up above the rooftops of my new neighborhood. A reminder that I moved states for the first time in my life, moved apartments twice within three months, and left my stable career in property management. If you told me two months ago that I would be here, I don’t think I would have believed you. I would have probably been a little scared, though the fear would melt away, and reveal itself in its true form as excitement. Really? Yes, really. Isn’t that how it goes? No risk, no reward?
The process behind these paintings is to start with a tic tac toe like pattern in the background that slowly gets erased as the painting emerges. These works celebrate the feminine gaze, and establish warmth, kindness, and hope. For a large part of my painting career, I used painting as a catharsis to let out all the negative emotions I felt. My paintings were raw, cold in color, and emotional. While I hold this body of work to high esteem, (some incredible mark making happened in those paintings), I no longer identify with the person I was when I made them. Naturally, a new method, new image, is born out of the new person that I am.
I know that life gets busy, and there’s so many things you can do throughout the day. Even just taking a few minutes to read my little musings, I truly do consider that a gift. And for that, this humble artist says thank you.
I’m going to get a little intimate here. There are three days left to my 30 day journey, and I woke up to heavy rain and thunder outside my bedroom window. Cozy, lending to a feeling of reflection. When I woke up this morning, it felt as if water had drenched my body, and was being wrung out slowly. Tired, yet new. I felt some sort of expectation that I should feel differently than I did on day one, when I started all of this. Don’t get me wrong. I definitely feel different. I feel more myself, and more connected with what I want. But I don’t know if I feel better. There’s still something in me that yearns for the approval from others, just in a different way. Instead of seeking the “good job” from my employer, I now seek feedback from the work I publish online. There’s higher stakes, it feels like, and I’m on somewhat of a ticking clock. I don’t feel fireworks, drums beating, cheers in the distance. It’s just another day that I wake up with the thought: I want to be an artist. And I want to give that a fair shot. My entire life, I have devoted myself to others. I have devoted myself to giving hours and hours of my time, all of my energy, to helping someone else succeed and make money doing what they wanted to do. What about what I wanted? So here I am, giving it a try. I want to be an artist. It’s like the thought circles me. Now, I can talk back to that thought, and say, “You’re doing it. You are waking up in the morning and are now focused on your creative career.” I wonder what would happen if I went back in time and showed my younger self my business plan. My little charts and graphs and progress trackers. I would probably make her entire day. Still, something today causes me to slow down, (probably the cloudy weather and rain), and reflect on what I’ve done so far. And if it will be enough. Naturally, as I create new work, I learn through the process. Today I woke up feeling like it’s difficult for me to publish work when I have in my head a method for improvement. It feels like I don’t want to publish imperfect work. Though as I sit typing this, I look above my computer monitor. A handwritten note on ripped notebook paper is pinned to the wall. Done is better than perfect.
My first upcoming art market is on May 10th, 2024. I also made my first art sale since this journey began. I know that I have accomplishments, yet some part of myself expects that accomplishment to feel like a BANG. As if it’s supposed to be big, bright, and undeniably different. That I am supposed to feel undeniably different. At the end of the day, I have to allow myself these moments of humanness. I have to allow myself to breathe, and to be the person, not the mask. Growing up, I was always told that perfection was an actual tangible accomplishment. Though I now no longer hold that belief, (because it’s just absolutely absurd), some small part of me is still scared to be seen stumbling. Trying and failing.
Anyway, sometimes I think about how simple life would be if it were like that. We all prescribe way too much meaning to the feedback we get from others in our life. I'd like to say that it would be nice if we didn’t value other’s feedback so much, but isn’t that, in essence, the core of community? And we all need each other. So we do, in some way, need that feedback. Maybe let’s just call it gravity. We need to be our own source of gravity. You can listen to the feedback of others, but you don’t let the feedback pull the ground from under us. Instead, you are grounded in ourselves, regardless of the opinions of others. So here I go. Back into the ring of creation. Before I go, I want to speak this into existence. For myself, yes, but I wonder if it could also be of use to you. Here are some affirmations for today: I let go of judgment.
I am okay with starting over again. Done is better than perfect.
However, only being good to others is just that– running on a treadmill. Learning to be good to yourself is getting off the treadmill and learning to explore on your own. Now you’re getting somewhere.
1. Make a cup of coffee in the morning.
Sounds boring, doesn’t it? Yet somehow, these tiny details add stability to my daily routine. When I don’t make the perfect cup of coffee, I drink it anyway, and say, “Well there’s always tomorrow.” And then I make a little plan for improving tomorrow’s cup of coffee. The key is, if you want to give yourself a similar rule, find yourself ONE small item that you can tinker with every single morning. An item which you can pay excellent attention to, and that you can change in small, measured ways to bring yourself a pleasing result. Even better: it is your taste that you are catering to. You’re not making a cup of coffee for someone else, and guessing what they like. You’re tinkering with the recipe, tasting it, and pleasing yourself through an exercise in small, daily experimentation. 2. Follow the energy. What feels light is right. I am currently building a life for myself that I love living. That’s the end goal. The end goal is NOT “be super successful, accomplished, and famous.” The goal is do what feels good and that can kinda, maybe, support you financially. At least one day. So when I am working on my art, when I’m drawing and painting, and I start to feel frustrated and pressured, I take a step back. I tell myself: that’s not what this is for. I am not here to slave away at a canvas, stressed and anxious about the result, that same way I slaved away for another company, never quite able to gain the right level of approval I was looking for. No. I am here to decrease my stress, find my passion, and live. Live a life that feels good. So follow the energy. Focus on a day in a life that feels light, pleasurable, and sustainable. Live as if you could live this one day over and over again forever. Live a simple and content day, not an impressive day. I once read a quote that went somewhat like this: “Big moments of happiness don’t feel any different than the small moments of happiness.”
3. Consume content you find inspiring. This is how you become the best version of yourself. You consume. In other words, you live. You can’t lock yourself away and expect to blossom and grow. So read books you love, even if they’re garbage, mind-numbing nonsense. Go on a walk outside, and really look around at where you are. Go to a new coffee shop, boba shop, or bakery. Talk to someone new, and learn about the world around you. Learn about the people around you. Find a new song. Learn a few words of a new language. Just do something new and different– gain that input. In order to be a great artist, you have to take in the world, digest it, and express what you feel about it. In my humble opinion, there’s a myth about an artist requiring solitude. That an artist has to hole themselves up in a dark room, ban all human contact and contents, and crank out some weird, unintelligible stuff. As if only in those conditions will they be able to create something truly “original” and great.
To me, being a designer is someone who creates a conversation between items in an environment whereas an artist creates a lone piece to dominate an environment. A designer belongs to their community, and serves their community. An artist exists outside of the community, and the community peers in at the artist, wondering what makes them so unique and different than everyone else. “Art” often exists in a vacuum. It’s fine art, a painting on a big white wall, an image that dominates the viewer and the space. In fact, the viewer should ignore that the space exists altogether, and peer at the canvas like it’s a magical window to transport them into a new space. This is why museum walls are white, or another color to complement the artwork that hangs. The purpose is to remove the environment as much as possible, and to allow the artwork to dominate the space. A “design” is artwork which is informed of the space in which it exists, and works as only one piece of the puzzle. It allows the space to exist, acknowledges it, and has a conversation with the space it’s in. Think: a home area where all components in the home interact and come together. A designer made it that way. (Yes, you, even if you don’t consider yourself a designer. If you put thought into how all the pieces interact and work together, then I now deem thee, an honorary designer.)
The rug is the right color, the lamps are the right shape, and the artwork, the “design” talks to these pieces, and they are cohesive together as one large piece. The artwork a designer uses does not dominate the space, it relates to the space. Things are softer this way. Anyway, I think my rambling has come to an end. Those are my three rules to live by so far in life. I’m curious what you might think of this concept. If you want to chat, feel free to leave a comment or send me an email (or a text if we groove like that). Either way, moral of the story, I do love my little rules and outlook on life. I’m curious what tomorrow will bring me. See you next week. :-)
It created a question mark in my head, and I thought of a story which I want to tell you. If you’re a perfectionist, (especially if you’re a perfectionist and an artist), you’ll probably need to hear this the same way that I did. Let me tell you a story about The Muse. "What if. . . I create that painting?" "What if. . . I write that story?" "What if. . . I SHARE that story?" "What if. . . I publish something important to me?" When The Muse whispers to you, you feel a great surge energy that burns from your toes to the top of your head. You feel excitement. You want to begin. You gather the materials, maybe even spend tons of money on equipment to do that thing you’re passionate about. You’re ready to begin, and the first stroke of pencil on paper, you’re beyond elated. You’re in a flow state. You start creating the project you’re so, so passionate about. . . Then your energy is stopped by what feels like a thick, brick, unmovable wall. "I don’t like it," you think. "This is not any good. What will others think of me if I show them this? What do I think of myself?"
"What if?" You try. You fail. You stop. The cycle repeats. You take a step back. You do the safe thing. You find ways to spend your time where you won’t have to face challenge, face disappointment. You limit yourself, you limit your capacity for growth, to continue coasting in the safe area of your mind where you feel “good enough.” You’re not doing what you love, you’re doing what you can tolerate, and what gains approval and appreciation from others. You say this is “good enough.” The only problem with “good enough,” is that if you let yourself, you’ll stay there for years. You will go through the motions, spend your time on what you can tolerate which brings you comfort to avoid doing what you love and facing the reality that you might fail. Before you can blink, years will have passed, and you’re lying there on the floor, asleep. You will constantly wonder what would happen one day if you let yourself go and do everything you ever dreamed of doing. Be who you dreamt of being. Instead, you lie on the floor, thinking of it instead of being it. Thinking of it feels safe. Being it feels frightening. "What if. . ?" The Muse will never go away, as much as you try to move on from it. When you settle for being “good enough,” you reject the truth The Muse asks you to become. “Good enough” is the lie that makes you feel safe, but keeps you in constant discomfort. "What if, what if, what if. . ?" The Muse doesn’t go away. Here you sit, best friends with comparison and self doubt. What the world doesn’t tell you is that you are comparing your first, second, third attempt to someone else’s 501st attempt. They just didn’t advertise attempt 1 through 500. We all put our best foot forward. We all put the mask on that looks the best to others. We show others our highlight reel, and then compare our outtakes, our reject roll, to others' best day performance. We are all born with something different to offer. Why do we expend so much energy trying to be exactly like everyone else? Why do we chase the idea of success that someone else tells us is real but could be fake, when we could be cultivating what feels true to us? The answer is because it’s hard. When we start out, we stumble, shake, and fall. And to avoid the trying, to avoid the thought of failing, we stay there, lying on the ground, asleep, with The Muse whispering to us every now and then. "What if. . . What if . . . What if . . ?" Self doubt finishes: What if I fail? The Muse says: What if. . . Self doubt finishes: What if everyone watches me put myself out there, struggle to become who I WANT to be, laughs at me, says “I told you so,” and walks away from me? The Muse says: What if. . . Self doubt, having said its piece, is finally quiet enough to allow The Muse to finish. The Muse says: What if. . . . . . You are everything that you want to be already. . ? . . . Like the seed of a flower. . . You are under the soil… Unable to see the petals when you bloom. . .
So here’s the story of The Muse.
Give it time. Another Monday comes around, and I find myself back at a blank document. About one week ago I decided to quit my job and start an experiment with myself. I told myself I would take 30 days to strictly pursue my own interests, hobbies, and turn them into a business. And see what happens. I also told myself I would publish a blog post once a week. So, here we are. During the past week, I have shown up to my desk, and worked a 9-5 for myself. Here are my rules for myself:
So what is the 30 Day Challenge? For me, the 30 Day Challenge means saying NO to everyone but myself, if only for 30 days. My entire life, I have poured myself into someone else’s cup. I have tried to squish myself to fit everyone else’s mold, all while a little voice nestled itself in my head. The voice said, “I wish…” Something. I wish I could get that special clothing top. I wish I could redecorate my room. I wish I had pink sheets instead of black. I wish I had more time to draw. I wish I could be as bold and brave as everyone I see on the internet.
I'm not going to throw myself into crippling debt just because I have the random thought to grab some expensive item. Instead, it means truly listening to that thought, and saying, "Yes, you deserve that." instead of "Why would you think of something so bizarre and expensive?" Maybe you are not purchasing that item, but you are telling yourself it is good to want good things for yourself. This is the road to healing your worth wound. It’s important to note that it’s not easy to say YES to yourself, when you’re so used to saying NO. Constantly, I feel self doubt creeping up on me. It’s so easy to want to revert to what you once knew. The security that brings. Though what would be the point? To be right back at where I was over a week ago? No. So I let my little experiment play out. If only to see what happens. List below are some of the tools I use to keep myself on track.
What I may have been ill prepared for, is your body still wants to stay in ideation-mode, even when you have time to start doing things for yourself. Idea-mode is safe. It is free of failure. It is free of confrontation, critique, and the reality that maybe you’re not as good as you think you are. This past week I picked up the book The Subtle Art of Not Giving a #@%! by Mark Manson. The writing style is humorous and easy to get into, and I absolutely love it so far. It speaks to the idea that human suffering happens entirely as a result of taking things too seriously. For example, after I published my first blog post, I sat back in my chair. A rush of self accomplishment filled my bones. I did it! Then it was quickly extinguished by the thought, Wait. What do I do next? For about a week I wrote and rewrote a second blog post. Gutted it, then wrote it again. Great, now I’m overthinking.
All I know is I love to write, so I’ll get through it.
One of my favorite moments from The Subtle Art... talks about how often we expend energy worrying about things that are absolutely unnecessary, and freedom is created when you let go of your idea of how you want things to be. Social media constantly introduces the idea of “You could be better. Look at how great everyone else is doing. Here: take some self improvement content.” True contentment occurs when you are able to prioritize what is important to you, and worry only about the right things. It’s hard, because for much of our lives, we are taught to value external influences so highly. Get the right grade, don’t disappoint your parents, join the right clubs, get the scholarship, get acceptance into the right school, join this competition, win that prize. It’s no wonder that we all grow up constantly fixated on external validation. It makes me wonder what would happen if we organized our world and routine around internal validation. It’s harder, would probably be messier, hell, I don’t even know if it’s possible. But it’s a cool thought, isn’t it? Either way, the theme is, as we grow up, we have to become our own center of gravity after years and years of being anchored to someone else. It’s similar to being an artist as well. Artists are often defined by their ability to march to the beat of their own drum. They’re seen as successful when they’re distinctive, when they say, “No,” to the world around them, and create their own world. The truth is we’re all a little scared inside, and no number of pretty pictures on social media can convince anyone otherwise. So, here’s to one more week in my 30-day challenge. The idea is: do it scared. We’re all going to look a little silly, and we’re all going to fail. You’ll never get better if you don’t. In the past week, I’ve beefed up my website, filmed content for a YouTube channel launch, applied to several open calls for artists, and created sketches for my new painting series. Here’s to making it happen. I’ll touch base again next week.
Self-doubt can be so incredibly powerful. Self doubt can cause you to apply to art colleges all over the country, then go to a state school and change your major to Political Science upon admissions because you’re too scared to commit to telling others you’re an art major. “What kind of job will you get with that degree?” you’ll be asked. Or: “So you want to be a teacher?” After my first semester as a political science major, I went home for Christmas. I stood in my childhood bedroom, stepped on the dried paint splattered carpet, and felt the murals on the walls surrounding me like a warm blanket. I noticed that there was a blank canvas still sitting in the closet, and I took it down to start drawing. Immediately, I knew. This is where I belong. I graduated college with my Bachelor of Fine Arts degree in 2020, running full-force ahead at my dreams. Still, money talks. And the semester I graduated from college was the same semester I stumbled into the field of property management. For a year, I worked as a part-time leasing agent while selling my art at the side.
Have I really let myself go that much? I thought to myself. How have you never seen me paint? Being a painter is all I know. I remembered myself at 10 years old, bringing drawing after drawing to my sister for feedback. I remembered myself at 13 years old, selecting a bag for school on its ability to hold my sketchbook. I remembered myself at 16, seeing how quickly I could fill up all the pages of my sketchbook, sometimes drawing so frequently I would need two or three sketchbooks in one month. I remembered myself at 18, achieving a scholarship for college based on my drawings. My sketchbooks were passed around a table of 4 different judges. One judge approached me privately, holding a particular sketchbook in his hands. He handed it to me forcefully, and said, “Make sure that someone sees this.”
Passerbyers would ask about my plans for the future. I told them: "Artists exist today in the modern world. They do. It’s hard, but they do it. If it’s not me, it will be someone else. So I need to make sure it’s me." At 25 years old, I sit and reminisce. What clarity I had before I had bills to pay. Maybe I could take a page or two from her book. In October of 2023, I felt the pull to devote myself to my art again. I started waking up early, sketching daily, becoming more present on social media again. I purchased books to help educate myself on starting my own art business. Then, that momentum came to a halt when offered an opportunity to move across the country for my job in property management. In December of 2023, I was offered to move from Florida to South Carolina by my corporate job as a property manager. I decided to take advantage of the opportunity, despite it feeling like an end to my pursuit towards art. When I signed that job offer letter, I thought I was signing another few years of my life away to this company. I had year-long plans sitting in my mind about the ways I would improve the property. As I packed all my paintings into a corporate-paid-for U Haul, I acknowledged that perhaps my art dreams will wait a little longer. I had, in my head, a new opportunity in front of me where I would be welcomed into a new property at a company who appreciates, recognizes my worth, and, as it is worth mentioning, which pays the bills. I believed that I was wanted here, in South Carolina, to bring a level of organization and success to an already functioning office. This notion, however, could not be further from the truth. I immediately found myself caught in a toxic work culture environment. My “lateral move” as described on my job offer was a fix-up job in disguise, and not just a regular fix-up. This was a fix-up from the ground up. I created a list of everything wrong with the current functioning of the office. Initially, my supervisors were happy with me, and told me that they learned more about this property in the 2 weeks that I had been there than in the 7 months they've owned the property. I was told to come to this property and “be myself." Couldn't be too hard right? Wrong. Very quickly, staff started quitting, and my corporate office changed their tune in regards to how they viewed me and my performance. I went from a perfect employee, an over achiever whose work is so great it's worth it to transfer me to another property to spread the love, to, in their eyes, an incompetent, burnt-out, problem maker. I found myself on the receiving end of daily bullying from upper management for personality traits rather than my work performance. My detail-oriented nature which brought them success at our Florida property is now a running joke and area of contention. I found myself on the receiving end of angry temper-tantrums where my higher-ups would blame me for the failure of their property. The problems that they put on my plate to solve became the reason they now despise me. I was coming into work early, staying late, hated by everyone in the on-site office staff and by the corporate staff that brought me here. My supervisor began lying about my work performance to those above him to save face against his own failures, and threatened that if I disrespect him by going over his head, he will make my life difficult. He was emotionally volatile, and swung from "You are the worst" to "You're too perfect," over the span of 2 hours. It felt like a rug had been ripped out from under me. I uprooted my life for a career move, and was now leaving work every week in tears due to mistreatment at the job. I was being cursed out by those I was meant to manage, and exploited and used by the management office that once treated me like an angel, the answer to all their problems. Despite repeated requests for help from corporate management, they told me, “they are helpless for me,” and have done “everything they can,” while denying my requests for extra employees to be hired, reduced on-site work hours, flying my Florida coworkers on-site for a week, and/or reduced expectations of perfection at a property that needs much more work than one person can handle. When I asked for a different management approach, my operations manager told me “that is not a realistic expectation.” She spoke to me with humor in her voice, and described herself as an “asshole.” I heard the sadistic pleasure in her voice, smiling as she described that she knew and understood the problems with their management style, but that this is how she managed for 10 years, and she will not be changing. It was then that I understood clearly how she delighted in my misery. In that moment, I knew that property management was a dead career to me.
months. Pay moving expenses. If I leave, I face uncertainty. If I leave. . . what happens if I leave?”
But a better question is: What happens if I stay? I will be investing more time into a company that clearly does not want me, and does not care about my success. I will be making money for the corporate machine that mistreats me. I will be showing up to work every day with people who would rather I didn’t show up. I will be working to improve a broken product while others try every second of the day to tear me down to make themselves feel taller. And perhaps more importantly: Every second I spend making money for someone else is a second I could dedicate towards making money for myself. I could earn my freedom, if only I took the risk. As my sister told me the day I quit my job: It is better to be uncertain about things you can control than to be stressed, beaten down, and uncertain about things you can’t. So I sit here at my home office on the first Monday morning that I can remember having free in a long time. I look straight into the face of fear and self-doubt, and I do it scared anyway. I know that if I don’t give my own goals and dreams the same energy I gave to another company, I would never find peace. I would always sit there and think to myself, “Do you remember that dream I once had? I want to be a painter. I wonder what would happen if I could have given it more.” So here’s to giving it more. Every day is a new mystery. What happens next? I have no idea. Maybe that’s the best part about it. |
AuthorA penny for your thoughts? Well here, take them all. Jen Carmiel started her professional painting career in 2016, and graduated with her Bachelor of Fine Arts degree in 2020 from the University of South Florida. While life can twist you and turn you around, there's only ever one place to settle down. And that's right at home where your passion lies: for Jen, that's painting, reading, singing, and writing. Archived here, you can read about the day-to-day life of a working artist in this world. Welcome to The Blog Spot. Archives
May 2024
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