When I was working at a 'regular job', I commuted an hour+, worked eight hours plus, sometimes attended an evening class, commuted back home, did the regular house thing, cooking, cleaning, etc. went to bed and started all over again the next day. I was up before the sun and many times fell into bed long past evening time.
Weekends were spent catching up on things that had been left hanging during the week like food shopping, running errands, the million other things that have to be attended to in life.
While I liked my job, felt I was learning new things, living on a small farm in a beautiful valley, and was reasonably happy with my life, many times I was just too tired or wrung out to pick up my art and do anything with it. For me, art requires a bit more peace.
True, I did have windows here and there where I was commuting on a ferry or waiting in the queue to board that didn't require me doing anything but sit. And I sometimes read, ate, slept or just zoned out. It wasn't a bad commute.
One day I realized I was actually grieving about losing my desire to make art. That's when I made a promise to myself. I would FIND TIME EVERY DAY to do SOMETHING to "feed my art". And I would carve it out wherever I could find a few spare minutes.
I would sketch.
Read an article from one of my magazines.
Visit a supply store and catch up on new products.
Go somewhere to see new works.
Plan or get a new project going.
Sort through my stash of supplies.
Interact with other artists.
Soon, I felt I was doing something. My mood lifted. I began to find more time to work and made some good things. I even arranged for a showing of my pieces in the gallery space where I was working. I didn't feel like I was just plodding along.
Even though it was slow going, this time period helped me find focus and was the basis for the kind of work I did for many years to come. It was a creative seed bed. I would have missed that whole evolution if I hadn't woken up one day and realized I was wasting time I could be using for myself instead of handing it all to other demands.
Sometimes you have to be selfish for your art......
"We are what we continually do."
---attributed to Aristotle.
Note: This little sculpture was cut out of a flat slab of clay. Patterned from a piece of cardboard, the form was cut out, then gently opened up to make it stand. A cardboard 'tent' held the legs apart while the piece dried. The collar is 3-D and fitted when the piece was drying. The black chain was from an old necklace. Lettering was done over the dry glaze prior to firing. Cone 5/6 oxidation.