Here it is, the first week of January and I am sitting in a seat of worry. Shel Silverstien called them the “What If’s”, and they are circling around me. I would like to think that there are artists out there who never sit in the lonely room with those but I’m sure I really don’t know any.
What if I need to get a real job? This one sits like a lump of coal in the bottom of my belly. Working for someone else would be easier, not like when I had the uncertainty of youth. I’m old enough now that I would know how to ask questions and make better decisions. The thought of having someone pay my bills for me, ie; taxes, insurance and a 401k is warming on one level. The thought of having to give up my art practice makes tears well up in my eyes. I can feel them gathering as I write this. Who knew I would love doing art so much?
What if I can’t get my work in the right place ever again? Boy, this one really sucks. I am always worried about this one. Artists and friends tell me that what I do is very special and amazing but, that isn’t always enough. I want to paint what I choose and I don’t want to keep what I paint. I’d like to be able to afford to give it away but that isn’t something that is reasonable currently. I imagine all of my inventory rising up and swallowing me, never selling… This one can keep me up at night.
What if I am nothing but an expensive hobbyist? Wow the guilt of me dragging my husband into deep debt and us dying there. He reassures me that every time I wallow in worry like this, something breaks loose. He held my hand, kissed my cheek and said this happens every time. What a jewel he is, I know I am lucky to have him.
It is the new year and we are encouraged to make a resolution. Every year it is the same, I won’t give this up. I had a pretty good year and I did sell. I found new markets, new collectors (Thank you all) and made new connections and friends, lots of friends. I know that this is what I want and I also know my husband is right. I look at my records and the new choices I have made to keep going and recognize that it will be alright. It has been so far, I just need to keep the faith. I also need to recognize that there are others, like me who are trying not to listen to the “What if’s”.
Whatif by Shel Silverstein
Last night, while I lay thinking here,
some Whatifs crawled inside my ear
and pranced and partied all night long
and sang their same old Whatif song:
Whatif I'm dumb in school?
Whatif they've closed the swimming pool?
Whatif I get beat up?
Whatif there's poison in my cup?
Whatif I start to cry?
Whatif I get sick and die?
Whatif I flunk that test?
Whatif green hair grows on my chest?
Whatif nobody likes me?
Whatif a bolt of lightning strikes me?
Whatif I don't grow talle?
Whatif my head starts getting smaller?
Whatif the fish won't bite?
Whatif the wind tears up my kite?
Whatif they start a war?
Whatif my parents get divorced?
Whatif the bus is late?
Whatif my teeth don't grow in straight?
Whatif I tear my pants?
Whatif I never learn to dance?
Everything seems well, and then
the nighttime Whatifs strike again!