A blog about my photos, my artwork, quotations, ideas, collections, passions, England, authors, handwork of all kinds, rusty bits, buffalo, and architectural detail...for starters. And the occasional rant.

Friday, November 12, 2010

When is it a studio? When are you an artist?

I’ve dabbled in the Arts since I was in Junior High, pretty much all the arts.  Writing this blog could be considered “dabbling in the Arts”, and I am not without some musical talent.  But I want to talk about drawing, painting, graphic arts, collage, bookmaking….and I also want to talk about cardmaking, scrapbooking, beading, and all the fabric arts.

There is a room in my house that is filled with things that I have saved, rescued, and purchased.  Indulge me while I give you a partial (just the tip of the iceberg) list:
          Fat Quarters (fabric)
          Pressed leaves and Flowers
          Cell phone parts
          Paper of all sizes and content and color
          Paint chips
          The complete DMC Embroidery Floss line
          Colored Pencils
          Rubber Stamps
          Watercolors, Acrylics, Inks
          Broken Jewelry Bits
          Beads – LOTS of beads
          Silk Ribbon
          Paper Ephemera of all kinds
          Three cameras
          Postage stamps (all ages, all countries)
          Reference magazines and books

When I start a new project, I rarely have to leave the room for anything but food and drink.

I create in this room.  I sew, paint, collage, stamp, bead and play in this room.  Finally, after several years, I call this my studio.  For some reason it is easy to call it ‘a studio’, but hard to call it ‘my studio’.  Nor can I call myself an artist.  I have sold my work (and I am more inclined to call it stuff rather than work), won minor awards, and received much appreciation from friends and strangers – but that doesn’t make me an artist.  While acknowledging my talent for color and design, I know that I am not even close to being at the level of the people who fill the walls of galleries and the art fair tents.  I also know that a lot of women who do call themselves artists are simply modestly talented women with husbands who are happy to support and indulge them.

Alas, without the pure talent or the husband, I am doomed never to be ‘an artist’.  But at least I know I sometimes do create real art and at least I have a studio.

The fact that no one understands you doesn’t make you an artist.  -Unknown

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