I guess I have always been an artist. I guess that’s who I am at heart. Somehow maybe my art had to hide for a lot of my life because I was afraid that I could not lead an artistic life. While I always felt encouraged by my mother, I don’t think I ever believed growing up that someone could truly be an artist. I mean, I knew that someone made art, but I never considered that it was actual, normal, average people with either talent or drive or both.
Then I married into a repressive situation where truly NOTHING was doable. Many things I thought would be wise or fun or healthy or educational or viable were deemed impossible by my mate. They were said to be things that people did in magazines or whatever, and they were often stupid things.
These days I live such an artistic life, it feels odd to NOT be doing something expressive. I feel like I am where I should have been all along.
Maybe instead of “Art is life, life is art,” I should say “Art is MY life, MY life is art. “