The painting above is The Sea, Watched from artist Jamie Wyeth. I came across the quote from Wyeth that is below the image and it really struck a nerve with me, especially in the moment.
Being back in the studio after the Gallery Talk at the Principle Gallery, I am conflicted by two desires. One is to just be bone lazy and do nothing, to simply enjoy the good feelings generated by the talk and my own sense of my work at the moment. The other is to dig back in with even greater fervor, to move the goalposts ahead and begin the next step towards reaching those goals. What exactly those goals are is yet to be determined but I do know they are there.
I do feel that I do have to move forward, to not be lazy and rest on the work that is out there at this point. Part of that comes from doing these talks and getting real feedback on what I have done. I don’t want to come before these folks next year and have nothing new, no advancement in the body of the work, to point to.
That is the one of the addictive parts of this painting thing– a fear of falling short.
But sometimes the lazy part is appealing. I look at the work so far and I feel good about it. I tell myself to take it easy. Relax. Coast for a while. That would certainly be easy to do.
But part of me knows that’s the wrong way to go. If for some reason my career ended today, I can’t say I would be satisfied with what I have done. I don’t feel that my story is completely told yet, that the work hasn’t yet revealed all that it has to yield.
So, I dig back in.
I was asked after the talk the other day if I planned to retire and I laughed. First, I said I couldn’t because all of the paintings I have given away at these talk represented my retirement funds. But I said I couldn’t imagine not doing this to the day I either die or become incapacitated in a way that would prevent me from picking up a brush and making a mark.
Realistically, I figure I have a good twenty five years in which to be productive. And if I am fortunate and take care of myself, maybe thirty. I notice more and more older artists working into their 90’s and beyond, producing new work that are exclamation points on long careers.
That would be good. But it won’t happen if one lets laziness creep too much into the equation. Fortunately for me, the credo, “Live to work, work to live,” is not a scary or depressing idea.
So, that being said, I’ve got a lot of work to do. Have a great day.
I know you know this, but rest and laziness (or resting on one’s laurels!) aren’t the same thing. Where would we be if we didn’t sleep every night? We might make it for a day or two, or even more, but there’s a limit to how far we could go, or what we could accomplish. At my daily work, when I start dropping my tools into the water, I know it’s time for a break — before I get back at it!
You’re right on that, Linda. Rest is not the same as laziness. I think I’ve built in enough rest (and hopefully relaxation) to maintain a healthy balance that will sustain a long career. But there are times when lazy creeps in and whole days are spent in avoiding actually getting to work.
I remember that phenomenon well from the first year of being self-employed. It takes great discipline to forgo that afternoon nap when there’s no “boss” to tell you what to do.
Exactly.
Take a day, read a book, walk the dog, go out for lunch, collect a few baubles and treasures Nature leaves lying in our path. A lazy day isn’t forever. It’s a pause. Judging from the blog I read 7 days a week, it sounds like you paint that many days. Take a day. Chill.
I do have built in timeouts even when I am painting every day and do have other outlets. But I think the laziness I am talking about here is more about feeling content in where one is as an artist and resting on one’s laurels. Staying at a static point and not pushing to find something new in the work. Once you’ve reached a certain plateau, it’s way too easy to stay at that plateau and not push yourself to climb a little higher. I think that’s the gist of Wyeth’s comment. But thanks for watching out for me!