Summer is supposed to be fun
Just sent my son off to summer school (which we cleverly disguised as "summer camp") this morning. He is no dummy. He cried last night when we told him, and again this morning. He said, "It's going to be filled with dummies. I'm not stupid." Poor guy. He is 6, going into 2nd grade, and has a "non-verbal learning disorder," whatever that means.
What that means is, he has a hard time learning the traditional way. What it means is, he is always going ot be a little different. And now, at 6, that's not cool. Later on, when he's an artist or a forensic pathologist, slicing into dead bodies to find out what happened (his dream job !), different will serve him well.
I have 45 minutes to get ready for art camp. I love, love my art studio, but I wish I could spend the summer with my kids, lounging in our pajamas or hanging out at the lake. Ah well. Passion drives you. I want to have a successful business. I want to make art. I want to teach. But more than that, I want to write poetry.
Then there's the copycats. Two studios in my own town, offering similar stuff. And now one in the next city. It's great to be admired, and it is a free society, but, man, I hate capitalism! I can't figure out if it's pride in what I created (there were no teaching children's art studios when I started) or if it's jealousy, or fear of someone doing better.
Sometimes I even feel this way about poetry. Sometimes. Not often. But sometimes I look at all the books on store shelves and all the great poems in journals, and I think--why bother.
Perhaps this is a creative dilemma faced by all artists. Who knows?
All I know is, it feels good to let it all out. Maybe know I can get back to the business of poetry. And art. It's been too long.
Silver lining. Glass half-full. I've only not been writing for about two weeks. And even then, I've written two or three poems. I just haven't edited or sent anything out. I have been reading though!
Goal for the week: 2 new art lessons; type 3 new poems from old journals; send out poems to 1 pub; make an artist trading card.
Maybe I'll use the blog as my artist way/morning pages. Lose the funk. Get the art party crunk.
Anyone else having summer doldrums?
Labels: if imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, my muse, rambling, son, why don't we all look alike?
posted by jillypoet @ 9:11 AM
6 Comments:
I can never combine art and business. While creating images brings me some money, writing poetry has never brought me a penny. I have some sets of poems published but have never been paid for this:)
you see, this is just my luck. here i think i have a comment from a like-minded artistic soul, and when i follow the link, it is just an ad for skin care. bah!
You are inspiring. How many poems do you think you've written this year?
I believe that the poetry's readership is big enough to accommodate many voices. Keep plugging away and your luck will change with persistence.
Hope your son is adjusting to school.
Thanks, Jan! Truthfully, when I can manage to look at the glass half full, I have written many poems this year--at the very least, 30 in April. So I can not complain about not being inspired to write. Of course, as I often admit/lament, editing and revising are my crosses to bear. Now THERE is where I need to keep plugging away.
As for the art game/business...I just have to believe that what I offer is the best it can be. This type of artistic confidence, along with editing/revising, are always my stumbling blocks.
And, yes, my son seems to be adjusting to the idea of school/camp. He knows some kids, so that helps.
That "polina" is just mean. A hex on him/her.
I'm in the doldrums, too. I'm revising a little. I'm thinking about words. But they just don't make it on the page. I'm not even blogging properly.
I love reading your posts. You are living your life.
Being different at six, not cool, later it will serve him well. I know this from my own son, with a different characteristic. And that is what I say...later, this trait will serve him well. It's hard raising children with an eye for their whole lives when they see only today.
And six going into second grade??! Is that standard in the US? Seems so young! It's been so long I've forgotten.
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