I'm an artist. I've always been an artist. I was born this way. Creating is in my DNA, I cannot not create things. As the years have gone by I have come to realize that I am truly happy only when I have a brush in hand. The physical act of painting, at times, can be an almost spiritual experience. The passage of time disappears from my awareness and I am one with the canvas and paint. All awareness of my surroundings fall away and the paint flows from my palette to brush to the surface of the panel before my eyes without any conscious thought. I often snap out of this trance like state surprised by what I see as I step back away from the easel. I check the clock on my phone (what is the percentage of people that actually carry a pocket or wristwatch anymore?) I am shocked to see that 3 hours or more have passed. Moments like this bring a small smile to my face that might linger for days to come. When I paint regularly this sense of general well being and pure contentment fills me and sustains me through the mundane hours regulated to the day job.
Ah, the day job, a necessary evil if one lives in a place most refer to as reality. The day job, it puts food in ones belly and shelter over ones head. It also covers the expense of all those art supplies, I have an entire room dedicated to just the storage of them. If your day job is sucking the soul out of you then it will be sucking the soul out of your artwork and soulless artwork gives no one any pleasure at all. Hopefully you can find a means to pay your bills that does not leave you a drained drone by the end of the day because at the end of the day you will be free to mix the paints and pick up that brush to do the scariest thing an artist can do. Pour out your heart and soul onto that canvas for all to see.
As an artist, one needs inspiration. Inspiration can come from almost anywhere at anytime. The secret to catching ahold of the muse is a mystery to most of us. She is slippery. She can be fleeting or she can linger for a while and then vanish at the most crucial moment. Where does one find their muse? The answer is everywhere. I've found that when I openly seek out the muse she remains elusive. There is a different approach that can be learned. Stop looking for the ultimate glorious brilliantly glowing with ethereal light moment created and revealed to you as your muse. Stop looking for the grand and begin to open your eyes and see the small, the insignificant. Look at the way a shadow dances across the surface of a leaf as it slowly falls from the tree. The play of light and shadow on the ground, as a breeze stirs the leaves of the tree branches overhead. The attraction to the deep shadowed canyon walls of the cityscape. See the world through open eyes. The internet once quoted, "The eyes are the mirrors to the soul." Fill your soul with all the muse puts before you. Inspiration is everywhere. Are you awake enough to see it?