I love art. In all of its many facets.

In middle school, I used to draw and sell comics for classmates. I was a furniture salesman and merchandiser. I took one year of sewing in high school along with three years of various art classes. I have a BFA in fashion design + marketing. I bake and cook all the time and the shit is delicious. I like hiking. I love poetry. I’m into meditating and learning about the power of crystals. I enjoy taking photos and I think I’m pretty ok at it. I’ve interned with a bridal company. I travel as much as I can. I thoroughly enjoy attending art galleries and museums. I’m enamored with Moroccan interior decor. I’ve been in fashion shows/modeled a bit. I want to be a DJ. I love to learn how things are made. I attempted to start a clothing brand with an old friend I met off Craig’sList. {We should have just stayed friends.} I started a mobile bakeshop business and some of my baked goods can be found in a local tea shop. I love doing nails. I’ve worked visuals at Macy’s. I used to want to be a teacher long before drawing stole my heart. {I still might..} I draw all the time and post sketches on social media and sell or swap some of them and I have sketchbooks and notebooks and pieces of scrap scribbled with quotes, poems and ideas. I take random art classes in the city. I love decorating and organizing.

And now, as I type this, I am a writer.

My point? All of these things are me. I am all of these things. I can have a finger in any one or none of these art forms at any given time. Old acquaintances [and my parents] may look at me and say but don’t you have a degree in…? Weren’t you doing such and such last year? I thought you were doing ________. And so on.

The short answer? Sure, yea..what’s it to ya? I am an artist. You cannot put us in one box, or any box for that matter. Every artist I know is multifaceted; they may make their money in one or two areas and be really good at a handful of others, but their interests and skills are limitless. That is the beauty of art.

Being a creative adult in a society that does not celebrate creativity is not normal.

I’ve been that cartoon chicken; depressed. Drained. Unfulfilled. Lost. Spending too many late nights exhausted yet restless, wondering what the heck I’m doing with my life. “Adulting” by ignoring my gifts and callings for a paycheck, a few vacation days[aka escape time] and some cheap doctor visits I never used. But boxes -unless they’re kraft boxes- as I mentioned, don’t exist in an artist’s fantasy world of beauty and love and pain and adventure. It took me some time to understand that.. that maybe I was an orange in a basket of apples and needed to make some moves.

All I’m trying to say is I hope this inspires any other oranges to make the moves necessary for them to create a more satisfying existence.

Artists, in all forms, with this one life, never stop seeking new things to enjoy. Ever. There are no do-overs. No second acts. Even if you must sit in a cubicle or abide a supervisor you despise, don’t bend so far to where there’s no place for your imagination to be free. Look for or create your dream job. Foster all creative outlets. Make time to explore your interests. Find new parts of yourself. Drop the fear. Have fun with it. Be.

❤

brilliant cartoons ©Doug Savage