Year of Risk.

I've gotten a little bit behind due to a snowstorm that was quite beautiful but set me back a few days, however, I'm here with a couple notes as we wrap up these final days of 2021. First of all, a quick reminder to sign up for the 2022 Grant Deadlines Subscription, which will begin next week. You can sign up at any point during the year, but the best value is of course to sign up at the beginning.  It will remain $22 for all of 2022.

Subscribe to the 2022 Grant Deadlines Subscription

And now that that is out of the way, I thought I'd share a more personal note in case it is useful to you. I know many of us might be starting to think about resolutions or goals for 2022. I'm not much for making resolutions, and I tend to be so progress-oriented that setting additional goals always feels redundant to me. That being said,  I've already begun making some big choices that I hope will impact my art career in 2022. 

I've noticed that the past couple of years have taken a toll on my motivation, but if I'm honest, it started before the pandemic when I was tumbling into burnout. The excuse to step back from some things in 2020 was welcome in my life, but it also has made it harder to get back into a fuller level of activity. Specifically, I've been discouraged at the challenges we are all so familiar with as an artist - the lack of opportunities, the disparity between who receives opportunities and who is overlooked, how much it costs to be an artist (which is supposed to be a career and income-generating job) and requires many of us to hold down additional jobs to make ends meet. 

I know that I can't keep up the pace I've been working at for the last decade, nor do I want to keep feeling like I'm spinning my wheels. Maybe it's because I'm turning 40 in a month, maybe it's because I've gotten some form of clarity about what really matters to me, but I have been feeling like something has to change.

About a month ago, I made what was (for me) quite an impulsive decision to move my studio. I have had a great space, but recently I realized that I don't love being there like I have at other studios. Aside from a room with walls (and gorgeous windows) it has been offering me nothing. No camaraderie, no additional visibility, no motivation, which I have never really considered as aspects of a studio that I needed. 

Randomly, I saw a space was available in a studio building that I follow on Instagram that is trying to cultivate a community amongst their artists and I realized that I have been missing the energy that I get from working around other artists. I applied, and got the space.

This move has been a giant pain in my ass, as most studio moves are. I'm losing square footage, privacy, easy, free parking, and am paying much more for the studio. The decision has been so stressful that I've laid awake at 3am many times over the past few weeks wondering if I've made the right choice.  But then I remember that there is the potential for gaining new artist friends, visibility, a fresh perspective and renewed motivation. I have known that I need to make some kind of change to shake things up and I think it will all be worth it if this new space stimulates my practice and helps me take steps forward, and I'm willing to take that chance.

My partner and I are both taking some wild steps for our happiness this year in our careers, and are calling 2022 our "year of risk". We have agreed that no matter the outcome, we are going to throw caution to the wind and pursue the things we want in life. 

I am sharing these personal choices with you in case you also have been feeling stuck, anxious, lacking direction, frustrated or any number of other things and could benefit from knowing you are not alone in the struggle. These feelings have led me to personally decide to be bold and make some big moves because time is ticking, and I invite you to join me in my new mantra for this upcoming year if it resonates with you: 

Shit or get off the pot. 

Here's to big moves in 2022, 
Virginia