". . . a brush with nature"

Precarity. Do you know the word? Even if you don’t, I am willing to bet that you are familiar with the feeling. Especially if you are an artist. I believe that most artists must certainly accept precarity as part of their profession. I know that I certainly do.

“Precarity” describes a state of ongoing uncertainty, instability, and insecurity regarding an individual's livelihood, resources, and social standing (“acceptance”). What artist doesn’t feel that occasionally? Well, really I suspect it happens pretty often given the nature of our profession. It’s always up and down in so many different ways.

After all, we lay our souls bare in our creations then hope that others “get it” . . . that they see what we were trying to say . . . that they understand what we shared so publicly there on our canvas. We want them to understand US! 

If they do, we feel accepted . . . at least for a brief moment in time. With that one specific piece the uncertainty is lifted, and we feel understood.

Unfortunately, that sense of acceptance, accomplishment and professional bliss is fleeting. It becomes too easy to push it aside with self doubt and second guessing.“Am I an imposter, not as “good” as, or even irrelevant in the art world of today?” Confidence can rise and fall with each brushstroke and when rejection letters come, they can feel especially devastating, if you allow them to.  Outside forces can become a fickle taskmaster for an artist if they are allowed in.

Then there is the business side of things. From that perspective unpredictability is a given.  You can never know exactly when, or even if, something you have poured your all into will sell. That special moment when your art does speak loudly enough to another person, in a way that they simply can’t ignore, is serendipitous. It could happen today or in ten years. There is no way to predict.

So, you can see that precarity does describe the life of an artist very well. Even so, it is the life I have chosen because I am passionate about what I do. I always have hope that others can see that.