I am an ARTIST!

The rumors are true, before The Howk became a Professional Massage Therapist, NCTMB, she was an Artist, BS.  That's right, I have credentials that I can pile up after my name and make myself seem important (Hey! I paid for those letters!)

Actually, my mother can tell you that I've been saying that I wanted to be an Artist since I was four years old. It's one of those few childhood memory snippets that I still remember. I also remember thinking I didn't know how the hell I was going to make that happen outside of school.

self-portrait 1997 copyright Erin Howk 

Oh, I put my degree to use. I worked JOBS in the arts, but somehow it isn't quite the same. So, I changed careers and put the actual making of physical pieces of art on hiatus. I needed to do it for a couple of reasons. One I was struggling with a culturally implanted conception of what it meant to be an artist. You stayed at home working your butt off wearing dirty clothes and smelling of garlic and cigarettes for little return until you hit your big break. That doesn't sound very fun, and I didn't have much passion for that type of lifestyle. Oh, I like garlic, but I don't smoke and I wash my clothes regularly.

What was I to do?  Give up the artist moniker and embrace my new MT one?  I tried that for a while, but I just felt a little empty and incomplete.

Then I decided, well if I'm not making art, I certainly need to be a Patron of the Arts!  I'll collect!  I'll support! I'll find room somewhere in this closet to store all of the stuff I buy! I will, I swear!  I have to say this helped for a while. I have some beautiful pottery at home. Including some from this artist.

After a while I felt  I was letting my 4 year old self down. I TOLD people I was going to be an artist! I have to live up to my word!

I kind of forgot about it for awhile, running my business took priority. I started reading more blogs by what I considered creative people and artists.  I came to the conclusion that it isn't the collections, the portfolios, or the gallery showings that make a person an artist, not completely. It has a lot to do with your approach to life. Your mind is a creative mind, in that it creates things out of seemingly nothing and changes the perspective of their world.  This is done through writing, drawing, photography, cooking, speaking, singing, laughing, hugging, massaging, and healing.

Here I was limiting my soul to a path that is decidedly the antithesis of what it means to be an artist. A pre-defined, static path is for Math! Sheesh.

I hope to look down from heaven and view my life path as a beautiful intricate drawing. One with turns and surprises. One with layers and meaning beyond even my understanding.  That is what it is to be an artist.

Which is awesome for my closet.

Art Inspiring Blogs That I Read:

Accidental Mysteries  I love this blog. It does all the work for me. The author searches the internet and other collections for interesting artistic interactions with the world. Sometimes it is just your artist mind that sees the creative process in the objects, sometimes its a feature on an honest to goodness working artist (aka, not a lazy one like me).

Lobster and Swan This website is so beautiful. Not every post is art. Sometimes it is what the author is eating that day, or inspirations she sees in a magazine. She is also an etsy seller, and I have purchased and item or two from her. Handcrafted and easy to own. What could be better!

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REMEMBER that give away I told you about? I wasn't lying. I would love to surprise a reader with something off their Amazon wish list (up to $20 value).

All you have to do to enter is leave a comment answering this question: What blog(s) do you find inspiring?

I'll pick a winner randomly on my birthday.

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What did you want to be when you grew up?

Ever since I was 4 years old, I'd been telling people that I wanted to be an artist. I don't know how much was Howk Stubbornness and how much knowing your calling and sticking it out.

My mom would mention (somewhat vehemently at times), that she only had three choices for a career when she was growing up. Teacher, Nurse, or Secretary. She chose nurse. It's funny how kids can tell how you really feel about things sometimes. I immediately picked up on the fact that my mom didn't like that she felt she didn't have the choices available to her to do something else.

Being an artist was so exotic and vague that it left open opportunities that I wouldn't even have to define, even when I made it to art school. Oh, they would try to get you to write an artist statement, but they were pathetic.

Ironically, this vagueness is what deterred my art making abilities. Oh, I had the skills, naturally and learned. My four year old self was onto my inner being. After graduation, I worked as a photographer, graphic designer, photo re-toucher, and in web design. I was all over the place, had no direction, and pretty much hated every hipster, Jetta driving, art-snob I encountered, even though I was right in there with them.

One day, when I was stressed out after flowing copy into another credit card application letter, I felt the urge for Guidance.

"Almighty Google! Index of the Might Internets! Tell me what I want to know!"

::SEARCH: MOST RELAXING JOB

And Google answered me with a list of the top 5 most relaxing jobs. Massage therapy was on the list. That part of me that knew that I was an artist also knew that I needed to pursue this further. For those of you that believe in the law of attraction, 2 months later by no conscious planning on my part, I had been given the 'opportunity' (industry talk for being fired) and found a massage school in my new neighborhood. Sign me up.

5 years later I'm happier than I've ever been in my career and my art flourishes in unexpected ways. Like face painting, and fashion choices, and snap shots taken with my phone, cause I'm too lazy to replace the camera I lost last year.

I'm of the opinion that you don't have to paint a painting to be an artist. You just need to be a vessel of creation and interpretation of the world around you.

I'll stop there, before Trey gives me the stink eye for not being funny.

Which Reminds Me:

Next Time:
Our Little Friend, Stinkeye

Howktown Approves:
Face Painting
Relaxation