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  • Writer's pictureAllison Stratton

Becoming an "artist"

I didn't "come out" as an artist, truly, until just 5 years ago - not until my early 30s. I have since found out that this hesitance to claim the title is very normal. Being an artist felt reserved for those who were already successful - worthy of gallery space, patrons, etc. Art is revered as something magical and something that only a chosen few can actually do well. When an artist shares a beautiful sculpture, painting, collage, people fawn over them and the work, saying things like "I could never do anything like that" or "Wow, what gifted talent."

What we don't recognize is that it is a skill, a craft to be practiced and honed. And yes, not everyone has the propensity for it, just like there is no way in hell I could be a medical practitioner or historian! Aren't the patience and service of a teacher or the ability to navigate stressful and often disgusting medical situations of a doctor as awe-inspiring as the ability to translate ideas and visions into tangible artwork?

I'm not saying that we don't ever recognize other career paths as honorable and amazing, but people seem to completely forget their own talents and gifts when they see and discuss fine art and artists. The pedestal effect of that has always interested me. And affected me in a negative way until a few years ago, when I shed the imposter syndrome and claimed "I do art, therefore I'm an artist."

It took a lot of work on myself to get to that point. The next few posts, I'm going to zoom in on that process. Hope you'll come along for the ride.

Meanwhile, a visual treat. In preparing for these posts, I dug out the artwork and homework my mom saved. Below sums me up hilariously - a dramatic Enneagram 4 who loves dogs more than people.

I think I'm going to cry.

The End.


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