Zabel boldly pointed out that it might do the arts community a bit of good if more people had the guts to call themselves artists.
...I think that in our effort to command greater respect for the profession of being an artist, we’ve excluded people from identifying as artists and prevented them from seeing the art in their everyday lives. We want artists to get paid, obviously, this is something I feel strongly about. But in order to do that, we’ve created all these ways of defining who is a “professional artist” and that’s usually linked to those who make their living as an artist. But what about the hobbyist? The avocational artist? Aren’t they real artists? Those who used to practice but don’t anymore? At what point do you lose the privilege of calling yourself an artist? ...I’m not sure excluding people and having fewer people who identify themselves as artists is a good route towards public support of the arts.
It blew my mind.
So you mean, all that creative stuff that I make and do might actually mean that I'm an...artist?
It was one of those moments that changes absolutely everything. For the first time, I understood art as something other than a thing that I
did. Artistry was now something I identified as a characteristic of
who I am.
There are implications to realizations like that.
First and foremost, I'd spent years wondering about what my life would look like if I was one of the painters, photographers, or dancers whom I so admired. I'd see works by
Edward Burtynsky or
Steve McCurry, and I'd wonder what it would feel like to use my insight to connect with people so profoundly with an image. In my mind, those artists were different than me, somehow.
Zabel challenged those of us with artistic tendencies to acknowledge them as part of the package:
“I’m a doctor and I’m an artist.”
“I’m a teacher and I’m an artist.”
“I’m a senator and I’m an artist.”
“I’m a lawyer and I’m an artist."
Was it possible? Would anybody really buy that I was an underpaid, bored copywriter, server and an artist? And if that was the case, what did that mean?
First, it meant that the
pet project that had already consumed weeks and weeks of my time was more than just a hobby. It was art.
Second, it meant that the big-time photographers whose works gave me goosebumps weren't actually all that different from me. To be sure, their talents were more cultivated, practiced, refined. They were artists, as they'd always been. But I knew then that
I was, too.
A lot has happened in a year. That little project has actually garnered a fair amount of attention, and there are big plans in the works for a tour this year (knock on wood).
And, in a slightly more terrifying twist of fate, some opportunities have arisen that can't be passed up...but I'll have to work as an artist. Full time. For myself. In a studio that I own and operate (in partnership with the amazing Waffle Guy). Gulp.
My studio and gallery will be open for business in the next few weeks. I've got some of the most amazing and creative minds I know planning to work with me on this next "pet project," which will live in a building that had been abandoned for 40 years. My kids hang out there. So does Waffle Guy. My oldest plays with my camera while the middlest investigates the dungeon of a basement for clues about its history. There's even a perfect Daydreamin' Window for the Littlest Waffler.
Everytime we're in that beautiful space, I swear it whispers a "thank you" to us for bringing it back from a forgotten place. And I murmer a "thank you" in return, because I know that the space will take care of my family and friends. You'll hear lots more really soon. In the meantime, you can find us there, trying to figure out where the outlets should go...
The other day, I sat at a desk in my newly acquired studio, my iPod on shuffle. And that's when I heard it:
This little light of mine
I'm gonna let it shine...
Don't forget that you're an artist, too, completely qualified to share your own unique and beautiful perspective with the world. But be careful. There are implications to realizations like that.
