Within which there was not a single picture...
This blog post might be a little bit of an ugly duckling, though I will try my best to at least avoid making it painfully awkward to read. It's all related, I promise. I truly believe it's an important subject to discuss, so I'm bringing it up, darn it!!!!!
The intent of this entire blog, as best I can figure, is to share with as many people as I can what it is like to want to be an artist (or whatever it is that you want to be), and to try every day to get there. I want to share what I find to be important in the art of others, my own artistic growth, and the lessons I learn as I try to learn at least one new thing daily in regards to trying to make this work. I'm sure that, to many people, this is not a story that they're interested in following. It's information that they have no use for. It's the equivalent of me trying to watch Sports Center (I glaze over INSTANTLY). However, as I've grown up, I remember looking so desperately for any information that would tell me how to turn my normal life (awesome, but still very normal) into that adventurous, paint-splattered, fulfilling life that I dreamed of. There seemed to only be evidence of people that were like me, and then the people who were already skilled beyond belief in their jobs illustrating crazy books, making concept art for Pixar, and having ridiculously successful gallery openings left and right - I could never find an in-between. I could never figure out how they really GOT there.
So, though I am beyond fully aware that I may never really "get" much of anywhere, I want to at least be a voice of a person who is at least trying. A person who can remind others out there that not everyone is "there," that really very few people can make incredible things without practicing like nutjobs, and that nothing is ever easy. If it's something you want badly enough, it's worth at least trying to make it happen.
Which brings me to something that I struggle with absolutely every darn day.
Ready for a TMI about Sarah moment? Me neither, but it's fine. So, when I was in my freshman year of high school, I took a health class, where we were taught all of the healthy things. I remember specifically the day when we all calculated our BMI (Body Mass Index, where you divide your weight (in Kg) by your height squared (in cm), and the number will indicate on a certain scale whether you're underweight, normal, overweight, or obese) in class, and mine fell into the "overweight" range. I was absolutely HUMILIATED and traumatized and freaked out beyond belief. (Aside: At the time, I was taking dance classes in a dance studio, so I was exercising regularly, went on walks frequently with my family, and the meals Mom was making for us were far from unhealthy. I was also all of fourteen years old. The teacher had also failed to bring up that BMI is actually a terrible way to estimate your health. There are perfectly healthy people who have a high BMI because they are athletes, or just genetically predisposed to having a higher muscle mass, which is where I fall - have you seen my calves...? I have LITERALLY heard people whispering about them behind my back). Moral of the story: I was completely fine, but soon started down a path that led me to eating as little as humanly possible and exercising as much as I could. Before long, I could tell you how many calories were in almost anything, and I completely panicked when I was put in a situation where there were no "healthy" options.
It was never something that I went to a doctor about, but it was absolutely something that was, simply put, bad.
The first step toward getting out of this hole was when I started attending Summer Sessions for the marching band in college, and I realized that I HAD to eat more food or I would never have enough energy to do I what I needed to do to make this band. At first, it seemed like an epiphany, and in a way it has lead me to an important realization, but I'll get to that in a minute. It seemed as though I was cured! I remember going to Greater's to get some ice cream the night of the last Summer Session and finishing an entire bowl of ice cream and chuckling to myself that I would have absolutely wilted at the suggestion of doing such a thing just three months prior. But really, this was more of a band-aid solution, as it wasn't that I was less worried about what I looked like, it was that all of the exercise I got from band practice every day (once I made the band) really made up for any dietary restrictions I may have been tempted to place on myself.
Now, in July of 2016, it has been a little more than a year and a half since I last participated in a marching band practice. While I was in college, I got into the habit of running regularly, and I've been using this to sort of make up for the difference in lifestyle. I ran a half marathon in April, which was awesome, but now I've hit a bit of an obstacle, and I've been struggling to figure it out.
I've complained about this before, but I'm gonna do it again. I currently work a full time job. I have to be in the office at 7:30 in the morning, which puts me leaving at about 6:45, and waking up at about 5:30. By the time I get home, I have about four hours before I need to be in bed. If I go run, that takes up about two hours by the time I shower and everything. Cooking and eating dinner usually averages about an hour (though often times it's more, because I'm lame and can't bring myself to cook "easy" food - I struggle to find any that aren't a heart attack in a box). Which leaves me with one hour every evening to do... something. And what I WANT to do is usually art stuff. I want to paint! I want to draw. I want to try printmaking. And type up this blog. But I'm also lame enough to need more than an hour in which to do it. With that time frame, by the time I sit down, get everything set up, and really get into the groove, I've only got fifteen minutes in which I can try to get anything done.
A couple of weeks ago, I had a painting that I was DETERMINED to finish by a certain time. It just HAD to be done. And I made myself do it by taking away running. I figured, if I don't run for a week, I'll have two more hours every night to work on this painting. And, by golly, it worked. I even had it done a couple of days early. I got a HUGE amount of work done, I was able to focus, I learned a lot, and I daresay I had fun. And this got me thinking. How much better of an artist would I be if I didn't run as much?
One more anecdote: a few days ago, Paul and I went down to the little workout closet they have in our apartment complex. It was 97 degrees outside and about 387% humidity, so there was little hope of running outside without an ambulance tagging along, and Paul wanted to do some manly weight stuff. When we got there, there was some super lean chick (of course, super gorgeous, too), who was doing all this fancy workout-y stuff. And my mind went back to it's usual little rant:
"Jeez, Sarah, you're a whale compared to that chick."
"If you would just exercise more and eat less chocolate, you could be like that too."
"What on earth made you think that you could get away with eating more than once slice of pizza in one sitting? Seriously?"
"Can you feel all that flub jiggling around as you run..? Because I can, you chubby turd."
I started to wonder how much time I would have to put into exercising and how much money I'd have to put into kale and chicken (healthy food is expensive, folks. It's a problem.) to look like that. I started to wonder how many days a week that girl is in the gym. I started to mentally plan what I could do to lose as much weight as I could. Then, the more reasonable side of my brain spoke up.
If I picture myself running into old friends and acquaintances as a super healthy, fit, purdy lady, answering their "What have you been up to??' questions with an answer about running half marathons and lifting a lot of things, I might feel happy that I looked ok, but I would still feel that little twinge of embarrassment that I didn't have an answer that I was more proud of. However, if they walk up to me and I look like a normal-sized human being, who isn't above having the occasional cookie, but I answer their questions by talking about the paintings I've been working on and my blog and (someday, hopefully!) my classes I'm teaching, and the gallery opening the week before or the book I've illustrated or WHO KNOWS what else, I really could care less if they notice what I look like. I'll be proud of myself. I'll be excited to talk about it.
Now this isn't to say that I'm in the camp of foregoing trying to be a healthy person altogether. I still want to keep myself in shape and spry as I can, but I've come across this realization that a person has to pick what they want to accomplish. I can put all of my time into exercising, or I can put it into painting and drawing. I don't want to be a Jack of all trades, but a master of none. I want to be a great artist. Back when I was in band, I wanted to make the college marching band so badly that I gave up on holding myself to the absurdly low calorie limit I usually held myself. I had to decide which I wanted more. And now it's happening again.
It's this kind of struggle that I think people need to hear about. It's not just "how on earth do I draw a recognizable hand...?" but it's also, "When on earth am I going to find time to practice drawing that hand?" And it doesn't just apply to art. Though I've talked this whole time about painting and being skinny, it can apply to anything. Maybe someone has to give up time playing video games to read more. Maybe someone needs to quit volunteering to work overtime in order to spend more time with their family. Maybe someone has to study a bit less so that they can work enough to pay rent. Maybe someone needs to realize that they need to just accept missing that one television show that they love so that they can get out and get some exercise. I feel that we are so often presented with the idea that it's possible to have everything. But I feel that it's necessary for us to decide what is important to us, and pursue that most of all.
As I continue to grow and my schedule changes and life goes on, this will likely change again. Hopefully I can become one of those people that gets to make art every day, and then running in the evening will be a treat again. But for now, I have to decide which to pursue, because now is the time when I have to truly pursue it with all my might.
(And if your thought this whole time was to get up in the morning and run then, I'll have you know that I've tried it, and I'm dead enough all day with the sleeping schedule I have that less sleep is simply not an option, thank you very much.)
If you're still reading, it's a miracle.
Thank you!
Sarah
This blog post might be a little bit of an ugly duckling, though I will try my best to at least avoid making it painfully awkward to read. It's all related, I promise. I truly believe it's an important subject to discuss, so I'm bringing it up, darn it!!!!!
The intent of this entire blog, as best I can figure, is to share with as many people as I can what it is like to want to be an artist (or whatever it is that you want to be), and to try every day to get there. I want to share what I find to be important in the art of others, my own artistic growth, and the lessons I learn as I try to learn at least one new thing daily in regards to trying to make this work. I'm sure that, to many people, this is not a story that they're interested in following. It's information that they have no use for. It's the equivalent of me trying to watch Sports Center (I glaze over INSTANTLY). However, as I've grown up, I remember looking so desperately for any information that would tell me how to turn my normal life (awesome, but still very normal) into that adventurous, paint-splattered, fulfilling life that I dreamed of. There seemed to only be evidence of people that were like me, and then the people who were already skilled beyond belief in their jobs illustrating crazy books, making concept art for Pixar, and having ridiculously successful gallery openings left and right - I could never find an in-between. I could never figure out how they really GOT there.
So, though I am beyond fully aware that I may never really "get" much of anywhere, I want to at least be a voice of a person who is at least trying. A person who can remind others out there that not everyone is "there," that really very few people can make incredible things without practicing like nutjobs, and that nothing is ever easy. If it's something you want badly enough, it's worth at least trying to make it happen.
Which brings me to something that I struggle with absolutely every darn day.
Ready for a TMI about Sarah moment? Me neither, but it's fine. So, when I was in my freshman year of high school, I took a health class, where we were taught all of the healthy things. I remember specifically the day when we all calculated our BMI (Body Mass Index, where you divide your weight (in Kg) by your height squared (in cm), and the number will indicate on a certain scale whether you're underweight, normal, overweight, or obese) in class, and mine fell into the "overweight" range. I was absolutely HUMILIATED and traumatized and freaked out beyond belief. (Aside: At the time, I was taking dance classes in a dance studio, so I was exercising regularly, went on walks frequently with my family, and the meals Mom was making for us were far from unhealthy. I was also all of fourteen years old. The teacher had also failed to bring up that BMI is actually a terrible way to estimate your health. There are perfectly healthy people who have a high BMI because they are athletes, or just genetically predisposed to having a higher muscle mass, which is where I fall - have you seen my calves...? I have LITERALLY heard people whispering about them behind my back). Moral of the story: I was completely fine, but soon started down a path that led me to eating as little as humanly possible and exercising as much as I could. Before long, I could tell you how many calories were in almost anything, and I completely panicked when I was put in a situation where there were no "healthy" options.
It was never something that I went to a doctor about, but it was absolutely something that was, simply put, bad.
The first step toward getting out of this hole was when I started attending Summer Sessions for the marching band in college, and I realized that I HAD to eat more food or I would never have enough energy to do I what I needed to do to make this band. At first, it seemed like an epiphany, and in a way it has lead me to an important realization, but I'll get to that in a minute. It seemed as though I was cured! I remember going to Greater's to get some ice cream the night of the last Summer Session and finishing an entire bowl of ice cream and chuckling to myself that I would have absolutely wilted at the suggestion of doing such a thing just three months prior. But really, this was more of a band-aid solution, as it wasn't that I was less worried about what I looked like, it was that all of the exercise I got from band practice every day (once I made the band) really made up for any dietary restrictions I may have been tempted to place on myself.
Now, in July of 2016, it has been a little more than a year and a half since I last participated in a marching band practice. While I was in college, I got into the habit of running regularly, and I've been using this to sort of make up for the difference in lifestyle. I ran a half marathon in April, which was awesome, but now I've hit a bit of an obstacle, and I've been struggling to figure it out.
I've complained about this before, but I'm gonna do it again. I currently work a full time job. I have to be in the office at 7:30 in the morning, which puts me leaving at about 6:45, and waking up at about 5:30. By the time I get home, I have about four hours before I need to be in bed. If I go run, that takes up about two hours by the time I shower and everything. Cooking and eating dinner usually averages about an hour (though often times it's more, because I'm lame and can't bring myself to cook "easy" food - I struggle to find any that aren't a heart attack in a box). Which leaves me with one hour every evening to do... something. And what I WANT to do is usually art stuff. I want to paint! I want to draw. I want to try printmaking. And type up this blog. But I'm also lame enough to need more than an hour in which to do it. With that time frame, by the time I sit down, get everything set up, and really get into the groove, I've only got fifteen minutes in which I can try to get anything done.
A couple of weeks ago, I had a painting that I was DETERMINED to finish by a certain time. It just HAD to be done. And I made myself do it by taking away running. I figured, if I don't run for a week, I'll have two more hours every night to work on this painting. And, by golly, it worked. I even had it done a couple of days early. I got a HUGE amount of work done, I was able to focus, I learned a lot, and I daresay I had fun. And this got me thinking. How much better of an artist would I be if I didn't run as much?
One more anecdote: a few days ago, Paul and I went down to the little workout closet they have in our apartment complex. It was 97 degrees outside and about 387% humidity, so there was little hope of running outside without an ambulance tagging along, and Paul wanted to do some manly weight stuff. When we got there, there was some super lean chick (of course, super gorgeous, too), who was doing all this fancy workout-y stuff. And my mind went back to it's usual little rant:
"Jeez, Sarah, you're a whale compared to that chick."
"If you would just exercise more and eat less chocolate, you could be like that too."
"What on earth made you think that you could get away with eating more than once slice of pizza in one sitting? Seriously?"
"Can you feel all that flub jiggling around as you run..? Because I can, you chubby turd."
I started to wonder how much time I would have to put into exercising and how much money I'd have to put into kale and chicken (healthy food is expensive, folks. It's a problem.) to look like that. I started to wonder how many days a week that girl is in the gym. I started to mentally plan what I could do to lose as much weight as I could. Then, the more reasonable side of my brain spoke up.
If I picture myself running into old friends and acquaintances as a super healthy, fit, purdy lady, answering their "What have you been up to??' questions with an answer about running half marathons and lifting a lot of things, I might feel happy that I looked ok, but I would still feel that little twinge of embarrassment that I didn't have an answer that I was more proud of. However, if they walk up to me and I look like a normal-sized human being, who isn't above having the occasional cookie, but I answer their questions by talking about the paintings I've been working on and my blog and (someday, hopefully!) my classes I'm teaching, and the gallery opening the week before or the book I've illustrated or WHO KNOWS what else, I really could care less if they notice what I look like. I'll be proud of myself. I'll be excited to talk about it.
Now this isn't to say that I'm in the camp of foregoing trying to be a healthy person altogether. I still want to keep myself in shape and spry as I can, but I've come across this realization that a person has to pick what they want to accomplish. I can put all of my time into exercising, or I can put it into painting and drawing. I don't want to be a Jack of all trades, but a master of none. I want to be a great artist. Back when I was in band, I wanted to make the college marching band so badly that I gave up on holding myself to the absurdly low calorie limit I usually held myself. I had to decide which I wanted more. And now it's happening again.
It's this kind of struggle that I think people need to hear about. It's not just "how on earth do I draw a recognizable hand...?" but it's also, "When on earth am I going to find time to practice drawing that hand?" And it doesn't just apply to art. Though I've talked this whole time about painting and being skinny, it can apply to anything. Maybe someone has to give up time playing video games to read more. Maybe someone needs to quit volunteering to work overtime in order to spend more time with their family. Maybe someone has to study a bit less so that they can work enough to pay rent. Maybe someone needs to realize that they need to just accept missing that one television show that they love so that they can get out and get some exercise. I feel that we are so often presented with the idea that it's possible to have everything. But I feel that it's necessary for us to decide what is important to us, and pursue that most of all.
As I continue to grow and my schedule changes and life goes on, this will likely change again. Hopefully I can become one of those people that gets to make art every day, and then running in the evening will be a treat again. But for now, I have to decide which to pursue, because now is the time when I have to truly pursue it with all my might.
(And if your thought this whole time was to get up in the morning and run then, I'll have you know that I've tried it, and I'm dead enough all day with the sleeping schedule I have that less sleep is simply not an option, thank you very much.)
If you're still reading, it's a miracle.
Thank you!
Sarah