Earlier this week I was writing in my gratitude journal – a practice that I’ve fallen behind on lately. While I was writing out my list of things that I’m grateful for, I could feel fear creeping in.
I wrote, “I’m grateful for the positive feedback I’ve received for my abstract cityscape collection and the sales that I have made.” Then fear would say, “Yeah, but you haven’t made that many. Not enough to pay for health insurance.” ”
I’m grateful for the two magazine photography assignments I got this month.” Fear responded with, “Yeah, but you’re not going to get paid for those yet and you need money now. Plus it’s not like you get those all of the time.”
At the end of my gratitude list I wrote, “I am grateful for so many things, but I’m also scared.”
For 20+ years I’ve been praised for my bravery. I’m a natural born gambler, always willing to take a chance. When I’ve been worried about certain choices I’ve made, my friends always came back with encouragement.
“You always land on your feet!”
“You always find a job!”
“It will work out. It always does.”
And it did. These sentiments didn’t just come from caring friends who were there for me through tears and stress, but from my own mind too.
When I left my full-time job as a pediatric behavioral researcher in 2012, I wasn’t sure what would happen next. While my heart (at the time) was set on being a writer and full-time blogger, I wasn’t prepared to rely solely on income from those things at that time. So I put my psychology and marketing background to good use and offered social media marketing services and strategy consulting, as well as one-on-one creative coaching. I did those things alongside the blogging and article pitching and began to rack up small victories. As expected, at least for a while, compared to the salary I had been bringing in from my full-time job, my contribution to our household income was negligible.
As I broadened my graphic design and photography skills, I began adding new dreams and goals to my writing focus. I taught myself how to use my camera, Photoshop, and Illustrator and worked my ass off until I got good at it. I got paid jobs as a writer, photographer, and graphic designer. I spent 2014 and half of 2015 writing and photographing an art and design column for an online magazine here in Seattle. Last week I wrapped my third photo shoot for a high-end glossy interior design magazine, and yesterday I returned from a road trip to write and shoot an awesome story assignment for one of my favorite creative magazines.
During my time as a contributor to Seattle Refined, I started drawing, painting, and collaging more regularly. I covered an abstract composition workshop at a local art school and spend the weekend immersing myself in paper, glue, shapes, lines, and collage, then photographing and writing about it. And I was hooked. I loved the instructor and learned so much in 48 hours that I decided to enroll in her abstract painting course for the 2014 fall quarter. That’s where I first learned and felt that I truly was an artist.
In 2015 I pushed myself even further. I landed my first print magazine photo shoot and started painting or drawing every single day. I traveled to New York City, Iceland, and Germany. These trips were super important to me and my family, even though they weren’t economically good decisions. But we took the journeys anyway. And I don’t regret it.
2015 was also the year that my husband was laid off from his job. Despite the successes and forward momentum I had experienced with my creative career, it still wasn’t financially feasible to support a family of three plus a dog and cat. If you’ve ever been laid off before (I have…on September 10, 2001), you know that you can usually get unemployment for a while, which my husband did, but it paled in comparison to his previous salary. However, he still usually averaged more in one month compared to my cobbled together creative services income from photography, writing, marketing consulting, and art sales.
When you work for yourself, you take everything on yourself. There are times when you have no work, which means no money coming in. It’s not like when I used to work in an office and no work meant getting paid (plus actually affordable health insurance) for trying on sweaters at Anthropologie.
Sure I was waking up at 4:00 AM every day, even on weekends, to work on my creative pursuits, but at least I was financially secure. I was mentally exhausted, but I could easily pay the rent and have money left over for plenty of cappuccinos.
When I made the decision to leave the cozy confines of full-time employment in 2012, I was totally scared, but I knew I had to do it. I HAD to try. I couldn’t keep going on like I was with the amount of work I was doing and family time I was missing in order to try and make my dream of having a creative profession come true. It’s been four years since I left my job. If I had it to do all over again knowing what I know now, would I still do it? Yes.
While I’ve had to risk a great deal financially, I’ve also learned so much and gotten so many opportunities that I never would have received (or always been able to say yes to) if I had kept my full-time job. Do I wish that I would have found painting and textile print design earlier on? Hell yes. I’m still in the early stages of building my career as an artist and designer. While I still love (and actively take on) photography and writing assignments, I know that art is the one thing that I would trade all of my creative slashes for.
I’ve struggled with defining the work that I do and want to do – always insisting on doing all the things. But for me, like marriage and motherhood, I’ve learned that it was because I hadn’t met the right one yet. I’ve had many creative paramours, but was never willing to be exclusive. Until now.
Then I met the one. My soul mate. The one that changed my life forever.
I have no guarantees that I will be financially successful. I have no security. I have no salary. I’m getting close to no savings and my credit cards need a break. I also have no choice but to keep going down this path. I’ve come too far to turn back now and I have no desire to abandon my craft. I have finally found “my passion”, and it’s only taken 46 years.
That being said, I’m also tired of the financial ups and downs that come with this choice. The fears and the risks. And I know that getting a part-time job (or even a full-time job) doesn’t mean giving up on being an artist. It just means having less time to dedicate to it. In an ideal world I’d find a job that pays me to do what I’m doing now – one that takes the pressures of freelance life away.
And that’s where I am today. Right now. Thinking about what’s next. And I’m not sure what that means, but I know that something has to change.
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