There are are a number of nice things about the self isolation recently. Not only has it given me plenty of time to create a lot of artwork, but all kinds of artwork in all kinds of forms.
The beauty of it has been (and given the duality of art, I will explain the beast as well) that with all of this time off, I have been living the art life. I have a drink, I create something. I cut up a few trees into firewood, come inside and work on some more art. Its a strange time in my life (that given the reason that this situation has come about I actually hope to never experience again) where art has literally become my life. I can work on whatever I want, whenever I want to. I have been grinding, drawing, painting, and whatever other method I develop during whatever hour I'm awake that I have. I have practiced social media distancing and basically ignored my computer for the last 5 weeks and couldn't have less of a regret about it. I hate technology because I don't understand it, and the truth is that you would have an easier time stuffing a wolverine into a pillowcase than teach me anything about it. I am truly loving this situation.
This is where I realize the beast of it all.
If you've read my previous installments, you know about my time at the Art Institute of Seattle. If you know me at all, you know what I thought of it. I went there the year after I graduated high school, left after the first year, and have worked ever since. I started as a maintenance man at my dad's engineering firm, then a video store manager, and for the 21 years since a graphic designer. Of the jobs I've had my two favorites were as a maintenance man and my time in the video store. It actually makes sense when I truly think about it. In maintenance, I was happy to build and repair things, sweep, change lights, deliver paper and run a forklift because all of those things never took up any real estate in my mind. At the store, I could discuss my passion about film with my employees and customers. I always had the art machine running, but it was at the back of mind. On my lunch breaks I would make amusing cartoons depicting the shortcomings of the 300 engineers at the office and the maintenance crew would have a laugh at the silent expense of upper management. It wasn't until I got into a career of something art related that I realized the problems that can come from being a passionate fiery ball of crazy artistic energy.
You are constantly firing all barrels at once burning everything out and consuming every thought with artwork. I think its brilliant - they will hate it - Have I done this before? - Man, am I in a rut - this is truly unique - this is formulaic and tired - groundbreaking - pedestrian. Morning to lunch. Through lunch. Through the aftrenoon. Into evening. Keeps me awake all night. Cripples all function during the next day. The beast is not the artwork itself, but the inside of your own head. Twenty one years of this, and I realize the art that I've made those late nights, early mornings and every lunch break were and are my escape from the design terror I suffer most of the time.
I am enjoying art as I did as a child, but as an adult I realize that things will never be like this again. I'm getting to emotionally visit a place that like a dream, I haven't seen in 35 years and I know that at some point I will wake up and my art and creativity will be forced back into being a panic room activity.
However, there is a gem in all of this, in that my 6 year old niece has been visiting often (and even though she can squeal REALLY loud) she loves coloring pictures that I draw and working on painting at the same table I work at, and sharing art with a little person will always help keep me in touch with reality.