When I reflect on my early days entering the world as an adult, it’s a tapestry of frustration, discovery, disappointments and confusion but plenty of energetic determination.
Creating art is an exhausting endeavour that requires large chunks of your time and emotional energy. For me, it’s a solitary pursuit that requires commitment, patience, dedication, and a large dollop of courage. I often found myself in that vulnerable spot when seeking outward validation and earnings. It sometimes caused me to feel unsteady and that I was pursuing a thankless task. On the one hand, after diligently pouring good intent, emotion, energy and time onto the canvas, I was often with the fact that it wasn't good enough for sale, that is. The looming fear that I might have to choose draining, soul destroying work over what made me happy and sustained my spirit, was exhausting. Each time I made the decision to postpone my passions, my soul suffered, another little bit. On the other hand when I create, I find joy through the satisfaction of self expression and this reignites the desire to share joy of beauty and a personal view of this wonderful world with others, through my work. I find art and self expression to be a refuge, an escape hatch to a world of beauty, joy, creative fulfilment and inner peace. The trouble is onee does actually need to fund ones life in the long run. Fact.
As it happened, I had a pretty faltering start, which didn't help to set me on the right path for funding my life to great effect. Despite having what seems to have been and what was, a good round solid education, plenty of mind broadening cultural experiences and tonnes of work opportunities, I couldn't quite get it right. I still spent most of my young life lunging back and forth between the two worlds of art and mainstream work despite working diligently in everything I put my mind to. The trouble was that whenever I took a detour from art I felt thoroughly at odds with myself and the world, irritated, unncomfortable and alienated from myself which made me as determined as ever to get back on track.
Early struggles in art and my formative years
At twenty-six, I graduated from the Dublin Institute of Photography, a milestone that came after a drastic start at UCD, my first foray into higher learning. In my final years in school when it came to filling out the CEO application forms for colleges, I was disappointingly steered away from art studies towards language studies, considered a more practical path, particularly in those days. Though I come from quite an artistic expressive wider family where art and other cultural pursuits are valued, art was actually often seen as a hobby back then and not a viable career. I still remember the pivotal questions ringing in my ears. 'But what will you work at? What job will you get?' and my even more pivotal puny response, 'I'm not sure, I don't really know yet'. I had no clue really. I felt a bit silly for even mentioning it. I just knew I had no notion of delving deeply into the languages that I could already speak ,at least as well as I was ever going to need, for chatting and such, as far as I was concerned. I certainly had no notions of 'going into business in Europe with the Germans or the French', as was the push in those early European Economic Community days in Ireland, when there were only twelve or so member states in the EEC. Not to mention the fact that although I got 99% in my commerce exam in first or second year, I left it behind at the first opportunity in favour of German. I found figures, routines and processes to be brain numbingly tedious, so that was never going to happen anyway.
Nonetheless, I did go to UCD to study French, German and Linguistics. Even while studying languages, art remained my true passion, the one thing that truly resonated with me. It was where I turned, or hid really, in times I needed to retreat from any noise, stress, boredom or conflict. I don't blame anyone for not realising where my passions lay. I have always been the type to throw myself into everything earnestly and get to grips with new things so that is would have been almost impossible to assess where my heart actually lay. I didn't even know myself how strongly I felt about wanting a creative life or what that could possibly look like. I thought it was just all part of being young.
I wasn't really cut out for the serious business of being in the grown up world. I was busy trying hard to do my best and to please everyone. I just thought if I worked hard it would all work out. I believed I loved art in school because it was easy and fun as that was the message given. It was a dreamy fun thing for me alright, like sports and drama and singing. It was something I could do for free any time, whenever I wanted without permission or need for company. I wasn't yet aware of how passionate I was and right on the button about the importance of continuing it throughout my life.
Further artistic struggles
Nonetheless, in the final year of school, after that meeting, while studying for the leaving cert exams and four months behind, on the heels of my fellow artist classmates, I attempted to create a portfolio to apply for the National College of Art and Design (NCAD). I filled up sketch pads feverishly over my weekends and completed some drawing studies in art class. I did apply for NCAD in actual fact despite the advice, along with applying for universities, but my initial submission was rejected. The recommendation was to try again later, with some more indepth studies in my portfolio. I remember the heavy hearted feeling collecting my portfolio from the offices still to this day knowing that some of my classmates were probably accepted but I wasn't. The trouble was, I didn’t feel I had the option to wait another year. Now that I was proved wrong, I needed to get a career or at least a serious job to earn money. I simply couldn’t see how I could wait or stall. Feeling defeated, I accepted my place at UCD which was a non-starter really. I became very disoriented during that year and even sought help from the University psychologist but didn't pursue that because I found myself immediately attracted to the poor guy and I knew that would not lead to anywhere good. So having finished that year having ducked out of most of the latter half, I left UCD and went to work as an au pair in Heidelberg to consolidate my German. This scenario was part of a round about journey that ultimately included a myriad of experiences as well as various qualifications: a Leaving Cert with art as my best result, an Irish School of Music Certificate of dinstinction in Speech and Drama, A language certificate from the Goethe Institute in Heidelberg, a FAS Graphics - DTP and Repro Photography cert, a TEFL qualification, to teach English abroad, an ability to speak French and German and a variety of work experience to fund my way.
As a teenager and a young adult I was very familiar with Dublin city and I loved certain aspects of it. I would bump into plenty of people I knew on a given day popping about town in the cafes, shops and strees. However, sometimes, when walking through Dublin city as a student or from the vantage point of the top front seat of a double decker bus, by which I had travelled unaccompanied from a very young age, I would observe the scene. The traffic, the buildings, parks, shops, galleries and the people whose home lives could easily be observed through their windows as the bus rolled by or as we slowed at a busstop. Often, I would watch the office workers with their suits, pencil skirts and briefcases dashing about at lunch time looking like they had important places to go, serious things to do and people to meet. I remember acknowledging to myself that none of this was of any interest to me. Even if it had, I felt there was no door for me to enter, at any rate and that it held no place for me, nor did I want it to. It seemed like a place of punishment. Confinement and a place of noise and anxiety. Rest assured, I would do other things with my life. Better things. Better for me.
Despite the setbacks, my passion for art never waned throughout my young life. I rented a space in George’s St., Dublin, selling my first paintings around the age of nineteen. Those early sales, though modest and in the background, were a validation of my inner, heartfelt efforts and passion.
Encouragement for my passion for art
During my 18mths in Heidelberg I received encouragement from my au-pair family to create some art for their home. That was a wonderfully validating experience. One for the pool area, the woman’s business premises and an apartment of a friend. The woman of the house also introduced me to a friend, an older experienced German female artist who gave me some advice and tips about experimental materials she was using. I drew and painted gifts and portraits of the children but even at that I didn’t seem to capitalise on opportunities. I didn't know how to move it forward and to be honest I had only just discovered another passion. Men. Not that I hadn't noticed them before. On the contrary, but I began to find my feet in that field where I hadn't previously had that much luck. All of this attention helped my confidense and distracted me until I was finished my stay. I loved the children dearly and the family was very kind. In their wonderful house, I had my own room complete with sofa and coffee table, private bathroom and tea making facilities with a great big desk overlooking the whole town and beyond. Heidelberg and surrounds, I probably don't have to tell you, was completely stunning as was the weather and the food.
However, I was ultimately drained by the isolation. I was living someone else's life, six days a week. The repetitive nature of the day to day routine with little to no earnings but for bed and board and a bit of pocket money, made it next to impossible for me to take advantage of being there. Another person may have achieved more from such an experience but I couldn’t see the wood for the trees. At least I didn't have to do much in the way of house work.
All in all, navigating the practicalities of societal expectations and personal ones, was challenging for me and probably continues to be. At that time, I felt I was in limbo. I was very confused about my life. I still had no real direction and art remained my steadfast companion.
Have you ever faced a similar dilemma where practicality clashed with your passion? How did you navigate it? Share your experiences in the comments below.
Meet me here for my next installments of this series. In the next post I continue my journey where obstacles are faced and finally a little direction is found.
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Thank you for reading, until soon, Amanda
