5/8/13

mastering the art of...

After a particularly gloomy winter in Florence, void of light but full of rain, I'm back in the Blue Room - writing, painting, cooking, planting and blogging (finally). There's nothing like a little bit of sunshine and a bike ride in the park to set things straight and jumpstart the spring. There's a big jar of rosemary and laurel in my kitchen, ready to be used for new recipes. The cat is spending his days on our newly restored balcony, eating wheat grass and trying to catch pigeons. I'm sitting in the Blue Room, paging through my new book: Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking. For Alberto's birthday, I tried one of Julia's cake recipes -  gâteau à l'orange (orange spongecake) with orange cream filling. I think I'll spend today working on my watercolors and try to write another article for Florence Magazine.


Coming out of hibernation and throwing myself back into my writing and painting and all the other things that I wish paid the rent, makes me wonder: will it ever be possible to master the art of anything if your interests are so varied? And what about all these hobbies/passions/unpaid jobs that I  love doing in my free time - if they become my job, will they still be fun and relaxing? Julia Child wasn't always a famous cook/writer/foodie - she just started cooking because she loved food and wanted to know more about it. But what then? When it was a "real" job, was it still fun for her? How do you balance the fun with the work? 

And another question: at what point does a hobby actually become your profession? Can I call myself an artist, even though my paying gig is as an English teacher?  A week ago, I was listening to Terry Gross's interview with David Sedaris (my favorite contemporary satirist) on NPR. He was talking about how early on, he worked other jobs while he wrote (for himself) on the side: 

"I was never the person that thought that having a job during the daytime made you any less of a writer. I never thought, 'Well, when I can quit my job, that's when I'll be a real writer'." 

What a breath of fresh air! I often fret about labeling myself a "real artist" and I never know how to respond to the question, "What do you do?" And I must admit that one of my biggest fears is that I'll never be able to make the transition from "employee" to "self-employed" artist, and that I'll lose myself along the way or abandon my projects or never manage to find that happy balance between pleasure and work. But people like David Sedaris give me hope, and so does my husband - a working (!) actor - and my good friend Sharon, who works during the day and dances/choreographs/performs whenever she can and my college roommate (the yin to my yang) Julia, who loves teaching yoga but also loves writing and photography (two talents she puts to good use in other jobs here and there). 

But think Picasso posed the most serious quandary - "Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once we grow up." Adults are cynical, we've lost our innocence and sense of wonder, which makes it harder to create. Another big problem is that we've also gained a sense of responsibility, which makes it harder to put ourselves out there or take risks (creatively, emotionally, economically...). Plus we have this need to label ourselves as one profession or another, which in the end can be a real downer and over-simplifies our lives.
Can't we all be Renaissance men and women, and just leave it at that? Why do we insist on labeling ourselves as our profession, reducing ourselves to one single word? "Hello, I'm Lauren the teacher". That's too simple. "Hello, I'm Lauren and I like making things, trying new recipes and dancing to folk music."
Let's do it all and forget about distinguishing what is work and what is play. Maybe that way, can master the art of staying true to ourselves - the greatest job of all!