a day of work

The exhilaration in the end of “a day of work” (well, at least… a day, 24 hours, 1,440 minutes, 84,600 seconds… at least), is a sad weight being released.

Part of my process to create one piece, one piece simply because I made a promise, is by force in a way full of challenges, confrontations, confirmations and resolution, all within a few thousand seconds.  This is my bread and butter… and I love my butter at least an inch thick!

During the process of applying to art school, many of a warning that a living by art is almost impossible.  Yes and no.  It was simply a matter of priorities for me.

Not so often do I ever admit the pain in not knowing what my birth mother would have warned me about… wondering is a luxury that I cannot afford, for I would give it all to know…  Aside from the stranger’s warnings, I grabbed myself and whispered, “I have nothing to lose.”

Do I walk blind?  Sometimes, for this is my survival technique #2 and to pull strength from deep within, just to be blinded allows me to create in the freshest manner I feel suites my true intentions for what I create… how vain does that sound?… I know no other way to express it…

Each client is a relationship, a personal connection, an investment that surpasses the monetary value.  I don’t have the demand of selection, I do have a pull.  It simply happens and a promise of mutuality is cultivated and when the piece is complete, the relationship has a future of its own.

Committed to two work days a week is substantial for that is all the insanity I allow myself.

…the end of a day of work, is an exhilaratingly sad weight being released.

 

 

Joy Jane June

13th short 03.19.2019 a day of work


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