Post 22 – But…I want to be Artist!
Now that my youngest was in school, I was ready to commit all of my time to my creative projects.
My main objectives were to:
- complete and publish my book
- create more paintings and find ways to sell them
I approached my projects like a regular job. First thing in the morning after waking up, I helped the kids get ready for school, and kissed Myles goodbye as he left for work. I wrote in the morning and painted in the afternoon. My work continued all day until the kids returned home. I didn’t get paid for my efforts, but it didn’t matter. My plan was to eventually make money, but I wasn’t sure how that would happen.
It was the most gratifying work I’ve ever done. I felt complete and centred with my sense of self.
It was probably the best I’ve ever felt in my life!
By the end of December, I had finished my book and was sending a summary to publishing companies. I printed a copy of my book and asked Myles to read it. It was hard for him to find the time. He was too tired during the week after work, and weekends were full. I understood that time was limited, but it was so important to me, and I really wanted his feedback. I tried to find ways to motivate him to read. One time, when we drove to Montreal, I offered to read to him for the entire journey. I read to him for the first hour, all the while wondering if he was fully listening. He didn’t seem engaged so I eventually stopped reading.
I just had to accept the fact that he wasn’t really interested in reading my book. It was upsetting and made me feel like my passions weren’t important.
One day, Myles and I sat down to talk about my next career move. During the last four months I shared my progress with him regularly about my book and my art, so he knew where I stood. I received no push back from him so I figured he was on board.
“I think you should go back to work fulltime. Either teach, or find something in your field of study.” He said, in a serious tone.
“I’m already working fulltime!” I thought.
“I’m getting my art business going and publishing my book!” I conveyed, feeling shocked and slightly insulted. What does he think I’ve been doing for the past four months?
“You’ve been working on your projects for years!” he said, emphasizing on the word “years”.
I threw him a puzzled look. “Years? No, I took care of the kids and worked during my down time, which was barely any time at all!”
“Well, you’ve been doing it fulltime for four months now!” he justified.
“Four months is nothing!” I exclaimed. “It takes years to get a business up and going!”
“How much time are you planning on spending on this?” he demanded, making me feel like any length of time would be irrational.
“I don’t know, at least a couple of years!” I held my breath, wondering if my suggested timeline was too long. Of course, it was too long for him! But maybe…just maybe, he’ll see it from my perspective. He saw all the hours I spent painting and writing. Surely, he knows I am serious about this! He knows these are my passions!
“A couple of years?” he gasped.
My heart sank.
“Zoe, it’s time to make some real money so we can do things together. We don’t travel, we don’t own nice furniture, and we drive a piece of crap car. We don’t do anything fun because we have no money!”
It was true. Although we did have a beautiful house! We had an amazing, huge house in a great neighbourhood. That’s where all of the money went! It went into the mortgage and property taxes.
“A few years isn’t very long!” I pleaded. “Gimme two years, and if I’m not making money, I’ll find a good paying job.”
After saying the words, something didn’t sound right. Two years was not enough! I should demand at least three years!
Myles shook his head from side to side, in disagreement. “I’ll give you a couple of months. Four months tops!”
“What? That’s nothing!” I shrieked.
How is this a negotiation? I just spent over seven years with the kids and now I have to go back to a job I that I don’t like! I’ve worked at several jobs that didn’t fulfill me! I did it for more than a decade! Am I expected to do it for the rest of my life? I want to be an artist! Why can’t I be an artist?
“You’ll never make enough money selling your art or writing a book. It’s just not a viable profession. Surely, you’re aware of that?” Myles said, leaving the room.
“But….”