To start, I will confess I never even knew it was even possible to pursue an art career in my position. I didn’t realise I was already standing on the board until I stepped on my first ladder.
I studied Fine Art at the University of Chester solely because I loved art and knew I was good at it. I was brought up with the same notion of the starving artist and that art at its entirety is a pointless pursuit. So, you can imagine my surprise when I was sent up a large ladder one day after finishing my degree.
At the end of my course, you were expected to put up a degree show. The Degree show showcases your final work or works of art that you have created with the knowledge and practice you have obtained over the last three years. For me, it was only the final year I felt I had any determination to do well. After struggling with mental health, crippling insomnia, the loss of a few friends and a whole reawakening of what I wanted out of my life, I came back out of the pandemic and into the last year of my course with a vengeance.
It was then I poured my heart out on to the paintings you all now know as the Unfinished Finished series. It was a long emotional process. I had doubts regarding my work, as it was partly in memory of a friend that I had recently lost, and I did not want to be haunted by with these paintings for the rest of my life. I am grateful to my two lecturers who were tough but encouraging. They stated on multiple occasions that what I was working on had potential, the quality and style is unique and if they saw my paintings in a high sophisticated gallery, they wouldn’t think it was out of place. The highest honour and compliment an art professor could give to their students, a fellow classmate pointed out.
My lecturers proved to be right, within a day of the degree show being up, the University had multiple staff members chasing after me saying that I have been discovered. It became a game of telephone. Another professor would finally find me, passed the details of who told him to me, who then passed on the details of who told him, to be passed on again and again until I got the details of the designer who wanted my art. She later offered to work as an agent and sell my stuff in her shop. I couldn’t believe it.
Three days after that, I was invigilating the degree show when a gallerist approached me asking for the details of a particular artist whom she was interested in working with, not realising she was already talking to the artist in question.
You can imagine the wave of wonder I felt after going through such a tough year to be soaring right out of university. However, as expected, it did also come with a massive wave of imposter syndrome as well.
The first year was incredible. For an emerging artist, I made a decent amount of money, was getting advise and support from both the agent and gallerist, as well as my lecturers who were ecstatic about my success. On top of that, the university hired me back as a learning facilitator and art teacher. I was riding a high and saw myself only going up from here.
Here is where the metaphor of snakes and ladders comes in. Just as quickly as the luck came in, it diminished. I had to distance myself from both the agent and gallerist due to different opinions on how to direct my career, the sales came to a halt and the opportunities were harder to come by. I landed on a long snake.
Do I regret any of my decision that got me to this point? Absolutely not. I have learned a lot even just by having a glimpse of what I could get and now that I have had a taste of it, I am determined to climb back up again. After all, landing on a snake does not mean you’ve lost the game. But this time, I would work my way up on my own terms, without depending on a ladder.
I don’t see my current position as being back to square one, I see it as having been moved back a few rows and now I can slowly build my way back up with more caution. Shooting up that large ladder was thrilling, and it had helped see me the potential of what I could achieve. However, I was unprepared and had skipped over so many vital steps of what it means to be a freelance artist and run your own business.
I have not failed, and I certainly have not given up. If anything, I am relieved and grateful to have this setback. I am so much more cautious of who I work with, how I spend my time and how I price my art. I also have more room to make mistakes, to create bad art, and to experiment without other peoples’ eyes and expectations on me. I am taking a business course. I’m studying digital marketing. I have started a YouTube channel, and I am allowing myself to pursue other passions such as writing and modelling.
I have the rest of my life now to reach the top of the board if I ever get there. Yet I know that I will be happy if I just get to where I was before. The satisfaction of me having reached there by myself without the ladders will be enough. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t mind a short ladder on occasion, especially if it’s an opportunity I can’t refuse. But for the most part, I am taking it square by square, throwing my arms up with each snake I land on and enjoying the ride down while evaluating what it has taught me.
Yes, it can be frustrating at times. Yes, it can be hard to ignore the doubts hissing into my mind. Yes, there are days where I contemplate flipping the whole board over. Yes, it is harder work and a much longer journey. But after having reached a higher point without the experience, I can say with confidence that I prefer having exhausted every possible outcome and learnt every lesson on my own terms, then take a fast pass up to the top without the experience and knowledge I need to stay there and not be taken advantage of.
This mindset has absolutely lifted a personal burden I had given myself to succeed young and succeed fast. It has absolved me from the idea that I lost my shot and will never get a big break again. That first high was just the beginning, and as a business advisor stated, if they all came to me, it means I have got something worth pursuing. So, with that piece of wisdom, I will continue showing up for my turn to roll the dice.
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