Blog

 A few weeks ago, our son visited us from his home in Boca Raton, Florida to attend the opening of an art exhibition, "Birds in Art" at the Woodson Art Museum in Wausau, Wisconsin, of which my painting, "Moving On" had been accepted. My comment in the catalog about my painting ended with the thought that when I encounter setbacks in life that cannot be changed, I move on. Due to the hurricane, his visit stretched out for two weeks. This thirty-year-old has a job that he does by computer, so he didn't miss a beat during and after the storm as power was returned. With the return of power, however, he moved on, back to his life in Florida and I was left with a very silent studio.

Although most of his time here was spent on the phone while on his computer, I heard his voice, even though he was not talking to me. After he left, he silence of my studio was once again thundering in my ears. Today, I texted him and said that I wrote a blog five years ago, dealing with this topic, and I thought that I should reread it and take my own advice.

After I read it, I decided to resubmit this blog, as a reminder that some artist feel the loneliness of the studio more than others. Working even harder and pushing myself to do more help me to tolerate the silence of the studio.

I rarely write my blogs anymore. Mostly, any writing that I do deals with the creation of my children's science books, and books to show coping skills for dyslexia and dyscalculia. Writing newsletters is supposed to take place once a month, but I need to work harder on meeting that deadline. For those of you on my mailing list, I am sending this blog to you, so you won't have to look it up to see what I was talking about five years ago.

Here is my previous blog.

I hope all is well with you.

Jan

Winter Sunset represents to me the lonely stillness of winter. Animals are either hibernating or hunkered down in the cold so that they are not easily seen. The lush greens of summer are long gone, replaced by the blues and purples of shadowed snows. The sun goes down early, and sometimes these sunsets are spectacular.

 Wanting to produce my projects was part of the reasons why I changed careers and left my work to write children’s books and continue my art career. I feel very blessed and glad to be able to do so, but the hardest part is not seeing my former students and my friends at work. How do other artists do it? How do they learn to tolerate the silence of the studio? My days were full of talking, and now they are not. I suppose that if I in my former job I had been alone in an office all day this wouldn’t be so hard. But my days were full of teaching, talking with students and listening to their problems. I know that I can volunteer at many different places, but that will take time away from the reason why I am working in the studio.  I could join artists groups and paint with others, but I have always been a loner and I don’t feel comfortable joining groups. To be very driven has its price, and it takes a while to get used to paying that price. How do other artists get used to the silence of the studio?

When I am creating, whether writing or painting, I am in right-brain mode and have no concept of time passing. It’s not time passing that I mind; my days go very quickly and I feel like there are not enough hours in the day to accomplish all that I would like to get done. I miss talking with my students.  I miss going across the hall to talk with my friends. I miss going downstairs to the office to talk with my friends that work there. Having lunch with friends where you catch up on their worries and concerns and lend a listening ear, and vent your own frustrations is now gone.  How do other artists get used to the silence of the studio?

I listen to classical music while I create, so it is not really the silence, but the lack of companionship that I miss. Don’t get me wrong, I love being able to see my husband more, and have lunch with him every day. I love being my own boss again, but somehow, I feel out of touch. How do other artists get used to the silence of the studio?

I received an email from a friend yesterday. When she wrote that she reads my blogs, I was very touched. I have checked my sites stats, and I see that a few people are reading my blogs. I thank you for that, for ‘listening’ to my ideas. Before my friend told me that she reads my blogs, my sister was the only one that I know personally, who reads them. I told my friend that when I write my blogs, in my mind I am talking to my friends. But it is not the same. I still want to teach, but teach through children’s books and art.  How do artists get used to the silence of the studio?

I realize that as time passes, and I get used to this new paradigm it will not be so hard.  I still have contact with patrons, galleries, licensing companies and art centers through emails and opening receptions. Family contact remains with texting and emails. I stayed home with my children for twelve years, and I was alone while they were at school. I have done it before and I can do it again. If you are an artist, can you tell me how you deal with the silence of the studio? Oh, and thanks for ‘listening’.