 There’s been a lot of changes lately. And… I’m not entirely mad about it.
This year has brought some crazy transitions and transformations into my life. Every second felt like a surprising reveal of what life has to offer me next. Quitting my job and spending a short sabbatical getting to know myself again, getting creative again, was one of my favorite experiences thus far in my life. Though all good things come to an end. Do they stay good though? I argue that they do. Three weeks ago, I started another full time job. But I argue that good things don't end or go away. They transform, and become something new. I’m finding time to create artwork in the small pockets of time I find throughout the day. I wanted to share some watercolor breakfast scenes I painted earlier this week.
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 A few days ago I hit publish on the collection page for my painting series Breathing. A series about five characters unapologetic in their zest for life, springing from the canvas in beautiful vibrant color. This series means the absolute world to me, and the initial icon image has become the logo for my business. The color scheme, created accidentally at the time, became the keystone in my branding.
Now, as I move forward towards my next series, I would be remiss not to explain how the concept of Breathing came to life. I had just taken a two year break from painting while working a 9-5, and now I was gearing back up again to make my art career a reality. I sat in my bedroom surrounded by tons of canvases, old sketchbooks, and drawings, a question of what happens next? looming over me. I knew I didn’t want to continue my old style, but had no idea what to do next. All I knew was I wanted to be an artist. I was burning alive with so many new ideas, and I felt spread thin and directionless. How was Breathing born? With one question, asked and answered.  One Saturday morning, six months ago, I went out for coffee with my partner along a strip of shops and boutiques in the Columbia, South Carolina area. The frigid January air bit against my skin, much too used to clear Florida skies. I was definitely warm blooded. We stopped inside a shop for me to buy my very first actually warm, pink puffer jacket.
Wow. Sometimes, I still felt like a tourist, having just arrived earlier that year. In fact, I had moved here, hundreds of miles from friends and family, specifically for my job. I had no idea that in just a number of months, I would be quitting on the spot, rebranding my art business, and setting out to figure out this one elusive idea: my target audience.
 Waking slowly in bed today, my mind is still full of memories, digesting the events of the weekend. A quote I once heard looms over my head. It goes something like this: Sometimes you’re in the messy middle, where your old self is gone, but your new self is not yet born. That’s where I feel I am at times. Growing. Slowly but surely. I recently completed three art markets where I watched various people walk home with my artwork. I absolutely enjoyed chatting with passerbyers about my art, giving out some free stickers, and just getting to know people in the area.  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.  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. And as I sit writing this, it’s Sunday afternoon. I just finished a short painting session in my studio. Something new is blooming, brewing. . . Breathing.  This morning, 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. Boxes, boxes, boxes. It's all I could think of. Being inside them, breaking out of them. . . And so a new series emerged. Her name is Breathing.  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?  How do you talk to yourself, your younger self. . . The one that knows you are meant to be an artist? 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.
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