A Moment of Truth
A Time of Decision: No More Commissions
Today I received a call from the neighbor of one of my last painting clients. The image above is the project she had seen and which sent her my way.
This was my penultimate commission. The truly last job, for another neighbor, was smaller and so, I consider the lemon tree dining room my swan song. It was painted in 2013.
Today’s caller was looking for someone to complete a small hand-lettered panel, something I could do without access to my studio—still piled high with the consolidation of households.
I turned down the project.
I haven’t touched a paintbrush in nearly 10 years. I long to make visual art. It is hard for me to decline. I’m like a puppy presented with a new toy at the mere mention of paint. I hope my inquirer finds the right person to implement her vision, but, my days of commissions are done.
I’d rather keep my day job and paint what I want to paint—if I can ever dig out my studio.
The thing is, 95% of my lifetime of paint has either been for the stage (my first love) or by commission (my third career). I have so little to show of work from my own muse that I don’t even know what Ms. Muse might do given the chance.
I’d long ago decided that when I do get back to painting, I intend to play and explore, unhindered by waiting clients. Today’s call was a chance to make that decision firm for myself.
Don’t get me wrong. Serving others with hard work pushed my skills. I enjoyed the challenges, there were many satisfactions, and my multi-project clients became my friends. But I have a limited lifespan and I need to find out what I might create if left to myself. I sometimes wonder what I might have accomplished if I had still been painting for the last ten years. But, in that case, I probably wouldn’t have been writing. With my other responsibilities, I did well to chip away at one thing. So, I try not to spend much time on second-guessing.
In my perfect world, I will write and paint, bouncing between the two all day long. In the meantime, I will write at 3 a.m., work the day job, and dream of paint.
But no commissions.
In future posts, I will show you the few muse-based paintings I completed—back then.
Meanwhile, may all your skies sparkle.
If you’d like to see my original write-up of this mural project, including planning, process, and before/after shots, complete with slide show, you can check out my old blog here.
I wish creative passions didn’t have to be reduced to the sideline, only pursued in spare moments (and therefore sacrificing other things: relationships, health, or leisure, and leaving you feeling a little guilty for pursuing them at all)
It’s a predicament. The obvious solution is to try (through some miracle) to make the passion bring a paycheck. But that comes with it’s own confusing drawbacks
Creation feels pure, the trappings around it hopelessly complicated
Keeping play separated from work seems to be a theme the universe keeps sending my way. I've turned my play into work in the past, and lost a lot of the luster of the play. Now I'm trying to figure out how to make money while continuing to do something I love, while not worrying about maximizing income or anything like that. EG, writing here on Substack- I care far more about the tangible benefits I get (it's fun and scratches a really fundamental itch than eventual monetization).