I was recently asked by my artist/blogger friend Mary to contribute to her blog on the topic of dealing with negativity. I, like many of the other contributors, found myself thinking about this topic long after I responded to Mary's questions, particularly when it comes to artists.

A cartoon popped up on my Facebook not long ago about how it costs nothing to encourage an artist. I liked it because it shows how much artists care about their work, and also how dismissive people can be towards it. It is amazing that while creating art is such a pure form of self-expression, people feel more entitled to question and criticize your artistic endeavors than if you sold your soul to big oil. 

While by and large I have been lucky to have a supportive family when it comes to art, often it does feel like artists face a lot of subtle and not so subtle negativity from a wide variety of people, including friends, relatives, other artists, and ourselves. It can be hard to understand how we think, why we make the type of art we do, and what we are even doing this for. While the artwork we make is certainly tangible, the rewards are often not. Artists travel a tough road, and sometimes a "you're either with me, or against me" attitude can take hold. I have tried to figure out why some common questions and comments from people I know can irk me so much, such as:

"How will you sell this?"
"Why are you getting so stressed over your art? I thought this was just for fun."
"I don't see what your ultimate goal is."

The people who say these types of things may be trying to understand my thought process or motivation for working on a particular project or making a career move, but sometimes it feels like negativity, as if they are questioning my decisions, expect me to have all the answers, or don't see a way for me to succeed. Just imagine if I went to your place of work and start asking you, "How do you make money this way? Why do you work so hard at this, I don't see the point. What future do you imagine having here?" People rarely say these things out loud, unless they're talking to artists!

One thing I know: there is no clear or singular way to succeed as an artist. Building a satisfying career in art is harder than working a 9-5 job, and just as hard, if not harder, than building your own business. Sometimes you can sell your work, sometimes you can teach a workshop. Sometimes you can blog and make money that way, sometimes you win prize money. Sometimes you're just so unique and brilliant like Andy Warhol or Banksy that people end up throwing money at you just for being you. Sometimes it just takes a while to figure things out.

There are times when I feel down and lost about being an artist, but I learned a few years ago never to count myself out. I definitely don't have all the answers right now as to where I'll be in the future, but I am always searching, always reflecting back on my successes and failures, and thinking ahead to what I can do next. 

So the next time you talk to an artist, be mindful of ways to encourage them, listen carefully to them, and try to avoid questions that might hint of asking them to justify their lifestyle. Artists question themselves a lot already, so hearing some positive words can make a big difference.

A couple months ago I came across a great call for entry for a show featuring feminist art. The especially nice part about it was that the artist would get 80% of the sale, and the other 20% would go to a nonprofit focused on women's issues. Most artists know that it's great to get anything over 60% of the sale when you exhibit your work, so this opportunity was very appealing. 

I created a work especially for this exhibition. I called it "What She's Thinking". It was a very small collage made from handmade paper and found text in catalogs. While it wasn't an "in-your-face" feminist piece, I meant for it to be a reminder that babies and humans (and therefore females) are thinking creatures. Babies, girls, and women absorb the information, behaviors and cultures around them, so shouldn't we take a little responsibility as individuals and as a society to make sure the females of the world are happy and healthy? Shouldn't we encourage and recognize positive and powerful thinking in women? I was hoping this art piece, though simple, would provoke some important questions.  

As you can probably deduce by the title of this blog post, my piece was not accepted for this exhibition. Lately I have gotten pretty good at applying for opportunities that are relevant to the type of art I make, but apparently I was off the mark this time. I felt a little hurt and yes, rejected, in this instance that I was not accepted, but it didn't last long. 

My view is that applying for competitions, shows and opportunities is just like applying for a job every time. You have to first read carefully about the opportunity to make sure you would be a good fit, then you have to make sure your application materials show your work is relevant to the opportunity. A wise extra step would be to do a little research on the judge/jury of the opportunity. You should normally try to do this, especially with calls for entries that require a fee. You don't want to throw away your money on an opportunity you're not likely to get because the decision-makers have completely different perspectives from you. Applying for these opportunities takes time and commitment, just like when you apply for a job. And sometimes "they" like you, and sometimes they don't. It comes down to being a good fit.

The bottom line is, when you are rejected for an opportunity, it simply means you were not what they were looking for. Some people think that's a tough pill to swallow, but really it's not. Everyone should know by now that art is highly subjective. Just because you believe your work is "feminist" enough, doesn't mean others will. Or, the issue may simply be that your work was too big, small or otherwise problematic when grouped with the other pieces in the space. Or, maybe it was the space altogether--sometimes certain lighting, walls, and other factors would not be complimentary to your piece. Also, there are times when your art might a good choice under other circumstances, but maybe the curators have too many collages this time and want to include more sculptures for the exhibition.

Then there may be times when you should take part of the blame for your own rejection. If you know a particular exhibition aims to sell as many high-priced art pieces as possible, and you submit a work with a suggested price of $50, you probably recognize there is a high risk of rejection. Also, if your work is getting consistently rejected though you believe you are applying for the right opportunities, there may be a problem with how your work is photographed, the accompanying information you're providing, your professionalism, or maybe the work itself is not what they're looking for. When you find your work doesn't appeal to a very wide audience, that can become very discouraging, very fast. If you realize most of the world doesn't "get" or like your art, it is up to you whether you want to modify your pieces and create new work that is somehow more "mainstream", or continue working in the same manner, but just realize you'll need to toughen up and work harder to find the opportunities right for you.

Though there are times when I am rejected from exhibiting in a show that I wanted, I do think it's harder when I don't win competitions because there are chosen "winners" and that means I'm the "loser". Even in these cases, however, the fact remains that I was not what the judges/jury/gallery/museum/art buyer were looking for. Everyone is looking for something different, and sometimes I am not it. But, just like applying for jobs or anything worthwhile in life, you have to keep trying. Over time you change, the judges change, the world changes, and sometimes you just have to wait for the stars to align. 

But you have to be ready, willing, and watching for the next opportunity.  

As I edited my website and updated my art resume today, I paused to remember what it was like to graduate from art college six years ago. MICA, Class of 2008. At the time I remember feeling pretty good about being done with school, and my only plan was to take virtually any tolerable job near my apartment that I could walk to. Once I found a way to earn income, I wanted to continue to make art and seek exhibition opportunities in Baltimore. I remember fretting over the fact that I didn't have a car, and how that might hold me back from showing my art. But worrying about how I would transport my art was putting the cart before the horse. First I would need to make the art and find the opportunities. Then I would have to be accepted for opportunities.

For anyone curious about what life looks like after graduating with an art degree, I'll summarize my years of experience for you here.

2008:

Lucky for me, soon after graduation, I came across the glamorous position of box office assistant at a live theater in my area. While I was hoping it would be my stepping stone into costume-making, props, set-design, or play writing, I mainly just gained customer service and office skills to add to my resume. However, even though it wasn't a huge step professionally, it was a step: my first full-time job. I was pretty proud of myself for being able to pay my own bills and enjoyed the other perks of working there, like learning more about the theater community and having the amazing privilege of seeing free plays for the two years I worked there. I also made incredible and inspiring friends--box office workers are basically the most fun breed of people out there! You had to have a sense of humor to deal with the "drama" (pun-intended). Lost tickets, picky patrons, cancelled shows, diva-like actors, and a bit of condescension from the other theater employees came with the title.

Meanwhile, during this first year out of college, I wasn't producing very much art. I was used to making large, messy installations at the MICA studios and didn't exactly know what kind of work to create in my one-bedroom apartment. One of my friends from MICA and I saw that there was a studio space available near my apartment, so we decided to lease it and try to get other studio mates as well. We had grand plans that we would profit from letting other artists rent the space, but to our surprise, not too many artists wanted to pay the price, or any price. We tried forming a "collective", hoping our studio would attract artists and we would host exhibitions, but the space really wasn't very large, and the best walls for hanging work were in the garage area, which was very difficult to heat, and even more difficult to pay for it. 

Even though I had plenty of access to this studio space, I wasn't really able to make my art there. Instead of creating a thriving art hub, I was struggling and overwhelmed. Interactions with my friend became more tense, and eventually we decided to end our lease early. So, that was that.


Even though one might call it a failed venture, I learned a lot from that experience. One: going into business with a friend can be tricky--we haven't talked much since then. Two: don't take risks with money you don't have. At least I had enough money to make this mistake. And three: when it comes to making a profit or even breaking even on your own idea, it's harder than it looks. It's not impossible, but you do have to expect some setbacks and expenses, and put as much forethought in your decisions as possible. It's also true you have to know when to quit, and we did.

2009:

In 2009, I had no exhibitions to my name and was still working at the box office. I got married that year at age 23, so that was a bit pre-occupying. Life was fun and not too serious, but I knew I needed to be doing something with my art.

I started a little project, something that didn't cost me anything and that I could work on anywhere. I started hand-sewing scraps of paper together, thinking that it would eventually become a giant paper quilt. I just worked on it here and there, and hoped one day it would mean something.

In 2009, I did find out about the awesome art opportunity in Baltimore- the Baker Artists Awards. I used my senior thesis art pieces to apply for the prize since I didn't have any other new work. I didn't win, but I browsed the other artists and saw someone who was doing amazing large-scale installations with colorful tissue paper. I felt it related to my work, and left her a comment saying how I admired her projects. She ended up looking at my work online and suggested we apply for a textile show in Kansas City together. Though we never met or even talked on the phone, I sent her my images and information and she worked on the proposal. We didn't get the show, but from that experience, I learned that artists have to stick together. This artist turned out to be quite accomplished and just happened to have a collaborative and open-minded spirit. Even though I told her multiple times I was "just an emerging artist" and didn't know what I was doing, she extended a hand and gave me some hope. That meant a lot and encouraged me to keep going. 

2010:

By 2010 I was ready to leave the box office. Having to deal with customers and sitting at a computer all day long wasn't satisfying anymore. My husband and I decided to by our first car and move into a bigger apartment in a more suburban area. I applied for jobs that seemed interesting to me. I had a short stint as a summer teacher for underprivileged middle-schoolers which went quite horribly, since I was called in as a replacement teacher for someone who quit, and I was extremely unprepared and untrained. I had at one point considered becoming a teacher, but that rough experience left me completely dumbfounded and not knowing what to do.

I began looking at job ads and found one for a small nonprofit that provided work-readiness training for low-income adults. Basically, they needed someone with entry-level office skills. Basically, I had those skills since I worked at the box office. I got the job and felt pretty good about it. At least this was more of a regular 9-5 type job where I didn't have to work nights and weekends.

Even though we had a bigger apartment with one room for my art, it was more of a storage room for art that hadn't been shown or sold. I continued to work on my sewing project little by little, but was starting to wonder, could I call myself an artist at this point? I had the degree and some finished work from the past, but who knew about me and what I have done lately? I was starting to have my doubts.

2011:

My job was going well at the nonprofit I was working for. I was learning how to write grants and seemed to be doing more than just regular clerical work. My husband's job was going well too, and in 2011 we bought a house. It was hard for me to part with our savings that went toward the down-payment. I guess I had never thought of that money going to something so permanent like a house in the suburbs. Perhaps some part of me thought that those savings may be a way for me to "become an artist", or a cushion for me to pursue my dreams if there was ever an opportunity someday?

But in reality, who was I kidding? I hadn't finished a substantial piece of art since I graduated from art school, and I hadn't had any exhibitions. Toward the end of 2011, I managed to find two calls for entry for art shows that I may be eligible for. I applied for both using the images from my senior thesis, but wasn't hopeful. In my mind I was telling myself that if these shows don't work out, I probably shouldn't think of myself as an artist anymore. I should find something else to focus on, like my nonprofit work or a "real job". 

2012:

It turns out, I got accepted to participate in both of the shows I applied for in 2011! One was even a solo exhibition opportunity in Washington DC. I was never so surprised and elated in my life. I was even assigned an artist mentor who would help me prepare for that particular show. 

2012 was amazing. My mentor put me in touch with some studio artists locally who gave me some awesome studio space. I had a house where I could spread out and work on new projects using recycled materials. I finally finished that hand-sewn paper piece and it did appear in one of the shows. I had two shows that went well and led to other opportunities. I created a website, something every artist should do as soon as they can. I finally felt like an artist! Of course, my full-time job was still necessary, rewarding, and interesting, but at least my art degree was getting some use.

2013:

Now that I had begun exhibiting and had finally made new work since graduating, I felt more inclined to seek opportunities. Once you start looking, they're easy to find, and once you start believing you're a real artist, you actually become a real artist. I added more shows to my resume and started branching out in new ways, even making an interactive outdoor piece.

But, life is not just about art. In 2013, I still had my full time job, had joined the board of a professional association, and became pregnant with my first child! I was being pulled in so many directions and was also especially low on energy. Even though I have always lived a busy life, my husband actually said I looked like a train wreck. While I enjoyed the success I was having in my "day job" and in other professional arenas, I knew I needed to scale back. I quit the board I was a part of and lightened my art load toward the end of the year. I reasoned it was OK to have a little time to rest and relax while I created a baby. 

2014:

We're almost halfway through the year, and my baby is 3 months old! It has been quite an adjustment being a new mom, so I allowed myself to have a small hiatus from art. Luckily, though, I found some fun opportunities recently, so I am back in the saddle this weekend, collaborating with another artist on an upcoming performance piece and also working on a small project before the weekend is over. 

As for my day job, being a mom and working full time in a demanding position just doesn't seem plausible right now. Beginning in July, I will begin working with my husband with his new business, Pest Czar, where I will once again use my customer service skills from the box office, along with the new marketing and high-level administration skills I gained from my job at the nonprofit.

In conclusion, having an art degree isn't so different from having any other kind of degree. In my experience, just possessing a bachelors degree in any major can get you in the door as far as "day jobs" are concerned, but life overall is not about degrees or moving up the career ladder. For me, life has been and always will be about improving myself and contributing to the community. It is and always will be about family, creativity, and nature. It is and always will be about happiness. I encourage anyone, especially recent graduates, to remember what truly motivates you and stay focused on your goals, but know there are many paths you can take to lead a fulfilling life. Sometimes you will be more motivated to work on your art, sometimes you will need a break. Sometimes you will need to focus on making money, and sometimes you might be able to take a break from that too. As long as you follow your heart, make smart choices, pay attention to your finances, and surround yourself with supportive people, you will be OK. 

In late February, I gave birth to my precious daughter, Lily. Since then I've enjoyed roughly 8 weeks of mommyhood and 6 weeks of maternity leave from my nonprofit job. As if life hadn't been whizzing by already, time is really flying now that Lily is here. Since becoming a mom, I naturally have noticed a difference in the way I think about art and life. I have put together some reflections on how life has changed for me:

1. You can't always work when the passion strikes
Many art students graduate from school, find a job, then struggle to make time for their art. Suddenly they have no studio to paint in, no teachers assigning work, no deadlines, and no peer support to continue making their art. Now, picture having a full-time job, and having a little baby who requires constant care. This means you will have to operate on less sleep while having more chores than you ever thought possible thanks to the baby pooping, spitting up, needing baths, going to doctor's appointments, and a whole other list of new tasks. Really, you can't realistically fathom this until it's happening to you, but I would say you can count on your baby needing something from you (ie food, diaper, clothing change) almost 1-2 hours, even at night sometimes. So, obviously, even if a new idea for a project enters your head, you can't always act on it the moment you actually want to. It will take real discipline to get to it when you actually have the time. You will have to learn to create the time, demand the time, and then maximize the time like nobody's business. You will have to forgive yourself for taking a little bit of a hiatus to figure out your new normal, but you have to stay committed in your head that you are a long-term artist, and sometimes long-term artists need a temporary break. 

2. The passion may strike more often, or less often
Now, with a new baby you will start to see things differently, which may cause you to want to make more art. This new life and perspective may spark your creative side, where you want to start drawing, scrapbooking, sewing, sculpting like never before. On the contrary, you may also find that you might want to make less art. Life has become more demanding in all directions, so why force yourself to make art on top of everything else that needs to get done? Again, be kind to yourself, but remind yourself that you are a long-term artist and make a plan about how you will continue to seek out art exhibitions, opportunities and creative time after you've had some time to adjust to your new life. Even if you're not so much of a sketchbook person, keep a sketchbook so you can sketch or write down quick ideas for the future. You might get to them sooner than you think.
 
3. Inspiration is found in new places
As I mentioned in a previous blog, I now find children's books and illustrations so inspiring. Many of the classics are true artistic masterpieces, so you may find your art being influenced by them. Then again, as I watch my baby grow, it makes me think about life, nature, and family, among other things. I am thinking about the life spans of insects, animal and human instincts, evolution, the existence of a higher power, the state of the world, and what the future holds. My brain is focusing on different things, so my next art piece will reflect a new state of mind. It's exciting to be transformed this way, but it also feels a little new and foreign. Just embrace whatever inspiration you get and go ahead and act on it.

4. You want to make a different kind of art
With all these new sources of inspiration, the demands on your time, and all the cleaning that you find yourself doing, the type of art you want to make may change. For me, instead of making my usual time-consuming, labor-intensive installations, I now feel like making simple drawings with pen and paper, or maybe even doing some photography and photo-collage. Those art forms are easier to start and stop than the type of installation art I normally do, faster to complete, and less messy. I have always also enjoyed writing, so resuming my blog is sort of like a casual form of art.

5. You want to de-clutter
All artists know that we sometimes struggle with mild to severe hoarding. The "studio" in my house has mostly been a room where I stash potential art materials such as boxes and bags of newspaper, magazines, rope, fabrics, paint swatches, discarded wood, cardboard, broken furniture and whatever old knick-knacks that for some reason seemed meaningful or interesting enough to save. Now that I have a baby, I am determined to finally go up there and trash or recycle most of it. I'm of the mindset now that the fewer things I have, the better. I don't need much; the baby doesn't need much; what's most important now is a healthy routine and a healthy place to live. Everything else just gets in the way.

6. You try to think of ways to get your kid involved
Now that you have a baby, before you make any move, one question comes up: what am I going to do with the baby? You will ask this question at every turn--when you want to wash the dishes, when you want to take a shower, when you want to go for a run, and when you want to make art. Some parents decide to involve their children in their art projects. One of my favorites is Queenie Liao who crafts scenes with her sleeping baby using blankets and other props:

Then there was also the mom who makes paper dresses with her daughter, and also proves that blogging is an art form:

And Mica Angela Hendricks who collaborates with her daughter on drawings.

All of these artist moms are making beautiful art with their kids, and making memories!

7. You also try to think of ways to get away from your kid
Even though many people out there are creating amazing things with their kids, you still may be trying to figure out how to work on the types of projects you used to make or were planning on pursuing. In that case, it's time to make your needs known to your spouse, family, friends, and babysitter so they can help you have the time and space to have some quality solo creative time.

8. You may want to quit your day job
If you haven't figured it out by now, babies need a lot of your time. You also need to take care of your relationships with your spouse, friends, and family. That means there may be less time for yourself and your art. Even if you don't actually want to quit your day job, it is a good idea for you to evaluate how your very valuable time and talents are spent. 

When I was pregnant, I was sick every day for about 5 months, struggled with insomnia for about 6 months, worked a full time job where I was barely managing the time to eat a protein bar for lunch, served on the board of a marketing association, and participated in a few art opportunities and exhibitions. While I have always considered myself a high-achiever with diverse interests and good time management skills, I finally had to admit to myself I was doing too much when my husband told me I looked like a train wreck. What good are you to anybody when you're stretched too thin? How are you enjoying life? How are far can you go? Supposedly Warren Buffett spends 80% of his day reading and avoids the frantic work environment of the common worker. While not everyone can shape their lives like this and still make ends meet, it does remind you that there are different ways to live your life. I do think it is essential for artists to live a lifestyle that is stimulating, not draining, so it may be time to stop for a second and re-examine how you spend your energy and what you really want out of life.

9. You want to go to museums more
Having a baby means you're at home a lot. During my six-week maternity leave I barely left the house. While it's nice and necessary to spend time at home with your new baby, you will have the urge to get out occasionally, and you should. You will start appreciating the times when you could go wherever you wanted, and you will reminisce about going downtown or even to the store with relative ease. As an artist, you will have the desire to visit museums, with or without the baby. You'll want to seek out the beautiful things in life and nature. You will want to browse art books and websites. And you should. Take the baby and make it happen, or get a babysitter and go.

10. You read more
As I mentioned earlier, you will find yourself at home a lot with your baby, especially during the early weeks. While this may mean increased time spent in front of the TV, you will naturally find yourself reading more as well. Despite your best efforts, you will read mommy books and mommy websites. While I was pregnant, my sister very thoughtfully sent me Chicken Soup for the New Mom Soul. I had never read those Chicken Soup books before, but this one is very good with lots of real-life short stories by moms. A friend also recommended the Scary Mommy blog to me, which is filled with excellent information, advice and funny stories. All of this is good to keep your sanity and feel normal about being a mom. Then of course, you will be reading the children's books to your baby. I am hoping all this reading will lead to more trips to the library and more intellectual and artistic reading, which hopefully will eventually make me the next Warren Buffett, except I'll be an artist-style Warren Buffett.

Life overall has changed for the better since the arrival of the little baby. I am slowly getting acclimated to the juggle of working and mothering and being an artist, but I'm excited to see what is next and how I can make life as purposeful and artful as possible. Any other artist moms out there, feel free to leave a comment!

As you may have noticed, my blogging and art production have decreased some over the past several months. That is largely due to the fact that I am expecting my first baby on March 16, so my mental and physical energy levels have been quite up and down. It's a pretty major undertaking, creating a human life!

Still, I have remained fairly active in participating in shows, making new art, and seeking opportunities throughout my pregnancy. Some artistic updates: I created a nomination for the Baker Artist Awards and also applied for the Sondheim prize. Both opportunities grant monetary prizes and shows to Baltimore area artists. If you're a Baltimorean, I strongly recommend checking out the incredible websites and exhibitions that display the work of our local artists. If you're a Baltimore artist, I strongly recommend you enter these competitions every year!

In other news, I have found that one of the most enjoyable things about being pregnant is revisiting my favorite children's books. I remember being a particularly huge fan of Eric Carle, Dr. Seuss and Shel Silverstein.

First of all, I remember loving Eric Carle's illustrations. I actually remember watching a video about his creative process in one of my elementary school classes, showing how he used tissue paper to create the art. I looked at The Very Hungry Caterpillar recently with my now artistically trained eye, and loved how he used different sized pages and cut-out holes to bring the story to life. His shapes, colors, patterns, composition and creativity are an inspiration to me now.

Dr. Seuss was another serious favorite of mine. I read many of his books as a child--I loved his writing, rhyming and fun drawings. Green Eggs and Ham was my absolute favorite book when I first learned to read. I also loved The Lorax very much once I discovered it. It left a lasting impact on how I view the earth and the environment. Dr. Seuss will always be special to me because he had such a fun, rhythmic, and approachably powerful way of story telling. His illustrations were also so imaginative and unique. What a genius!

A little later in my childhood I was introduced to Shel Silverstein's Where the Sidewalk Ends. I remember reading the poems in the book and loving all of them. I went to my local library recently and checked out a few Shel Silverstein books, including A Light in the Attic and the relatively newly published Runny Babbit. Reading his poems now, I may love his work more than ever. Some of his poems are hilarious and fun, but many others are beautifully sad, uplifting, and touching, all while being simple and easy to read. His drawings are no-frills, but always very fitting with the witty poems he creates. My husband and I are working on writing some poems and making some Silverstein-style drawings to create a book for our daughter. We are no experts, but at least Silverstein sets an unpretentious example that is fun to imitate.

As a child, I always wanted to be a children's book author and illustrator. Looking at these books now, I see them as real artistic masterpieces. As I continue exploring paper-making and collage, I believe you will see some of Carle's, Seuss', and Silverstein's influences in my work. I am looking forward to discovering new children's books, sharing them with my daughter, and gaining new inspiration on combining words and images. 

As an artist and a citizen of the world, I think it is so helpful and important to think deeply about people and places. When it comes to my own person and my own places, I think I am pretty unique. Ethnically, I am 50% Korean, 50% American white blend (German, Irish, and I'm not so sure what else but probably western European). I was born in Japan but grew up in Colorado Springs, Colorado. I moved to Baltimore when I was 18. I married a nice, young Serbian man when I was 23, with the wedding itself consisting of multiple layers of people and places.

I've been lucky enough to travel to many US cities and states, as well as some foreign countries like Japan, Serbia, Korea, Italy and Canada. Just by living in the US and having my own foreign relatives, I've met plenty of people from around the country and the world. So, as you can see, I have a lot of different people and places to think about.

Maryland has been on my mind a lot lately--its place in the world, and my place in it. If it isn't obvious already, I love Baltimore with a passion. I love the community and the way people collaborate at a grassroots level. I love how people call it "Smalltimore", because everyone seems connected, and it's true. I love how we are who we are, and we're not that simple. I especially love the nonprofit scene, including Maryland New Directions where I work, and Mesh Baltimore, where I often go to learn, meet people, and even teach! I of course love the art scene, the creative people here and the opportunities. I think that the citizens of Baltimore really are responsible for what happens here, and that's powerful. It is a great place to be right now!

I must admit, however, that I have not spent too much time exploring the rest of Maryland, or the region. Recently, though, I have been prompted more and more to find out who exactly we are in this area. MAP recently put out a call for artists to explore the contemporary cultural climate of mid-Atlantic region of Maryland, Pennsylvania and Delaware. I applied for that show, and am waiting to hear back. Also, Hood College in Frederick, which I have never visited by the way, put out a call for artists living within 50 miles of Frederick, which includes Maryland, West Virginia, Virginia, Pennsylvania, Delaware, and DC. Happily, I will be participating in that show later this month. I realize by now, I am certainly a part of this region, but I also wonder, do I understand us as a region yet? What is the culture here? How would I describe it?

I recently started finding out a little bit more about Maryland. The state itself certainly feels small to me, but also vibrant and important. When it comes to land area, Maryland ranks 42nd in the country, yet its population is ranked 19th, with a population density of 596 people per square mile. That makes it the 5th most population-dense state in the country. To put that in perspective, the US has an average population density of 89 people per square mile, Colorado with 49, Serbia with 241, and Japan with 873. Wow! Maybe that is why it feels like we all know each other and we're all doing a lot--we're really packed in here!  As basic as population density and area are, they really have an impact on a citizen's entire life experience.

I was starting to think that not just Baltimore, but maybe all of Maryland, is small, mighty and connected. This suspicion was validated when I invited Maryland Comptroller Peter Franchot to visit and speak at Maryland New Directions. To my extreme delight, he accepted my invitation, and yesterday was the big day of his visit! To think that he oversees the finances of our entire state, lives in Takoma Park, works in Annapolis, but can come up to Baltimore so easily made me realize how truly closely-knit we are. Even though there are a lot of us here, everyone is within reach; that's not just a nice thing about living in Maryland, that's why we're special!

Even though we may be closely-knit, collaborative and hard-working, I know we're more complex than that. We're also an old and diverse state, with many traditions, tensions and behaviors that make us who we are. All of this makes it hard to describe our culture here in Maryland and the mid-Atlantic region. How would you describe us?

From what I'm seeing nowadays, few people make art, and even fewer people make art full-time. There are many people, however, who are unemployed out there today, whether they're an artist or not. All things considered, I feel extremely fortunate that I have figured out how to earn income at a job I care about, serve on a Board I care about, and continue making and exhibiting art.

I've been reading a few articles about artists and their day jobs. Though I believe it is every artist's dream to be a full-time artist, I agree with some views out there that having a job and getting involved in other activities should not always be seen as necessary evils or mere distractions, but as opportunities to grow and have a stable enough life that you can still make art.

While taking a day job may seem like just a survival strategy at first, finding a job you enjoy and doing your best at it can generate many positive results for you as an artist and as a person. Even though you may believe you already know how to think creatively, a day job can teach you new ways of thinking that can help you as an artist, especially when you're young and just starting out. Here is a list of the top 5 lessons I've taken from my day job that have benefited me as an artist:

1. It's easy to be a well-known artist if you're a well-known person. One thing that was not stressed enough throughout my art education was how to build and benefit from relationships. Thank goodness I have learned how to network at my current job. Whether you're meeting artists or non-artists, socializing and networking will no doubt help you as a person be known around the community. Let enough people know what you do, stay in touch, and eventually you will be known not only for the work you do at your job, but also as a creative individual. Revealing to an acquaintance that you are an artist is usually received as a fun, memorable fact, but don't underestimate how special that makes you. Believe it or not, most people don't know too many artists and want to hear more about your art. Share it and embrace it. Before you know it, you will have some new fans, and maybe some interested buyers!

2. Storytelling is important. Ever since I started working at Maryland New Directions, all the nonprofit workshops I went to stressed the importance of storytelling. Stories are memorable. Stories are humanizing. Stories set you apart. After realizing how much impact stories had at my organization, it became clear that I needed to tell my own story more. This Friday I will be sharing about my career journey at the Connections Friday event at my organization. Normally I don't like to talk about myself and do not seek the spotlight in front of a group, but I have figured out that telling your story really does help you, no matter what profession you're in or how shy you normally are. Artists, it is especially important for you to be able to talk about yourself and your work, so don't forget this! Practice this everyday, if not face-to-face with others, then at least on blogs or social media. The way you present yourself is the way people see you, so work on it!

3. Have a web-presence. I hope this goes without saying, but as an artist, you need to show people your work. Most artists would stop at making a website, but, as I've learned from doing marketing for organizations, it is wise and rewarding to get on social media. Facebook, LinkedIn, Twitter, and Pinterest can be particularly beneficial for artists. Blogging can also help you create your own brand and get more hits to your website. It's not rocket science: the more you market, the more attention and opportunities you get!

4. Participate in the community. Thanks to my accomplishments at my day job, I was invited to join the Board of the Baltimore Chapter of the American Marketing Association. It was difficult for me to accept this position, because I knew I would have less time for art and with my husband. But, as I mentioned earlier, it is important both to be well-known and to market yourself, so how could I say no? Artists, consider volunteering at any level in your community to help you learn new things, network and stand out as a multi-talented individual. But, make sure you think it through--do not over-extend yourself and make sure you put forth your best effort.

5. Tell people you're an artist. Now that you have a job, are meeting people, and getting involved with the community, it may be easy to forget you're an artist. Don't. The only way to be an artist is to continue making art and continue telling people you're an artist! Be open about it. If you have a job interview, let the interviewer know you make art and have shows. They shouldn't feel threatened as long as you convey that you really do want the job and that your art won't impact your work schedule. Sometimes employers will wonder how you can be passionate about the job if you are already so passionate about art, especially if the job is not in the arts field. For me, I have lots of passions and interests, so I genuinely do care about the work I'm doing in human services. Also, having a job at an arts organization could make you ineligible for competitions or exhibitions there, so that's another reason to explore jobs in other fields.

To sum up, being an artist is not easy. There may be times when you feel you like you're doing too much (you probably are, but, like I said, it's not easy)! For now, though, especially if you are good at managing your time and have a lot of energy, there's nothing wrong with working hard and building your credibility. That doesn't mean you should stop evaluating and prioritizing about what's important to you, however. You should constantly think about how the decisions you're making are helping you meet your goals. Over time you will acquire a lot of useful knowledge and contacts from your day job while proving to yourself how committed you are to being an artist. Who knows--maybe you will be a full-time artist one day, but you won't unless you're learning from everything you do and setting yourself up for success.

This year has so far been filled with unexpected opportunities for me to stretch my creativity, all due to a little bit of meeting people and a little bit of marketing. Earlier this year, thanks to Rob who I met at Connections Friday, I was asked to join the Baltimore Chapter of the American Marketing Association as the VP of Communications. Last month, thanks to Mesh Baltimore, I got to share how to make Serbian Easter eggs. Soon, thanks to Nature Art in the Park, I will be creating a special outdoor piece at Leakin Park this month. And this weekend, thanks to public artist Mary, I will be meeting some new people and collaborating on a project. It just goes to show you, Baltimore really is a great place to live and work. You just have to put yourself out there.

I'm particularly excited to have some creative time with Mary this weekend. We met at the Fun-A-Day reception, and I later introduced her to a knitter I know, Shanna. They ended up collaborating on a group public art piece, seen here. Great job ladies!