I have several theories about work. I think every job has a “yay!” and “boo!” factor. 

This was a sad, sad painting day. I was not happy with this painting. This is the 'before'. The 'after' is later...

You may look at Drew Barrymore and think her job is pretty great. She is a successful actress, beautiful, rich, and now a successful producer with the most fabulous office EVER, as documented by the sadly now-defunct Domino magazine (sniff) and reproduced here on thedrewseum. {she’s also starring in the upcoming Gray Gardens, which I’m rather excited about purely for its stunning visuals. But I digress}

My guess is, Miss Drew has to get up really really early a lot of the time. She probably has to talk to people she’d rather not talk to, go places she’d rather not go, and dress up and stand in front of a camera so people can criticize everything about her, even when she’s pms-ing and would rather crash on the sofa with her cat and an ice cream bucket like the rest of us. And she has to do it all with that sweet smile on her face. I’m not saying “oh, poor her”, but there are things on that list I’d rather not do on a regular basis. Hence the Boo factor of Drew’s work life.

Isn't she pretty?

God, look at that rust velvet dress…the costumes might steal the show.

So my original point is what? Oh yes. The Yay and Boo of being an artist. When I tell people I’m an artist there are usually two reactions — often in rapid succession — that go something like this: “wow! how fun!” followed by a very skeptical, “do you actually make money?”

Now. Some days are amazing: there is no high quite like a positively productive day painting. It’s up there with a day spent walking around Florence or playing in the snow. Those days are Yay-factor days. And they are ultimately what keeps most of us going through the heartache and rejection that come part & parcel with our career choice.

While I acknowledge that making art has been my dream since I was a wee thing, it isn’t always fun. Days like today, where it’s gorgeous, sunny and warm, I’m not happy to be in my stinky studio staring at a canvas, occasionally tickling it with a haft-heartedly loaded brush and generally making one nasty-looking painting. Boo! It’s also quite lonely, and a challenge to strike a balance in one’s life and not become a paint-smeared hermit.

The second question “do you actually make money?” is a tricky one. I think a lot of people are genuinely curious about this, as the myth of the starving artist conditions us to think of artists as, well, starving. I understand the curiosity. But I am asked this question about three times a week. Honestly, it’s a somewhat hurtful question. Truthfully, I do make money from my painting. Not millions, but my income increases year to year and I like having control over how much (or little) I make. But I don’t always want to talk about that, and sometimes want to respond with “Yes, I do. Do you make money as an accountant/politician/lawyer?” But I don’t.  So, this is just a gently informative (I hope) diatribe on how this makes me feel. And I’m sure I’m not alone. 

Having this blog to blather on is actually very motivating on those Boo Days. And often the case with ugly-ass paintings is that they turn a corner and become favourites, which brings me back to the wee nasty face at the beginning of the post. (Please keep in mind that I don’t usually show people this stuff–eek)

So the painting at the top of this post is how she started. Sad, sad painting. I hated it. So, one night I took a shot of Fireball — yes, it’s indeed a Yay factor when done in extreme moderation and only when clearly necessary — and went to town, and this is the result. Yay!

I've blogged this one several times, as she's one of my all-time favourite pieces I've done. I thought the transition would be interesting.