Lisa LaMonica
What we really want to do is what we are really meant to do. When we do what we are meant to do, money comes to us, doors open for us, we feel useful, and the work we do feels like play to us.
Connecting with other artists is especially important during the winter.
Winter is a slower paced time and a time for me to turn indoors more on creative projects not attended to during summer. Gardening, property management and more social obligations take much of my time away from creative projects during that season. While I enjoy certain aspects of summer, I always enjoy winter as well. After New Year’s I tend to take stock on what I did or didn’t achieve artistically during the prior year. Did I do enough? This is when I map out my creative goals for the coming year. Winter is not drab to me at all; I see the different colors of snow, the light shining through icicles hanging from my house, colors of birds at my bird feeders, the blue light changing at the end of an afternoon. Julie Cameron pointed out: “ Snowflakes, of course are the ultimate exercise in sheer creative glee. No two alike.” This winter has been lenient on us. When we have snow, looking at snowflakes and snow crystals perhaps catching them on a sheet of black paper, is a wonderment at their design.
What if you knew your work was being seen by only one person. Would you keep going? What would you do? In a world obsessed with popularity, will we still make our art?
One winter evening, I was pleased to see a posting on Facebook by Spotty Dog Books and Ale that one of my books had been in the top 6 best selling books of 2015 in their store. I was a little stunned, and had to let it sink in for a bit. I thought of all of the books, authors and topics of books in a bookstore. I thought of all of the visitors to that bookstore deciding to buy my book. Undoubtably these were local people as well as tourists. I wondered what their lives were like, if they bought the book for themselves or as a gift to give someone. I thought of how particularly difficult this book had been to complete, how long it had taken, how isolating the work was at times, all the while thinking to myself “I hope that one day this pays off.” In that moment, it had paid off beyond what I would have imagined.
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