Anticipation is making me quake

I am so close to finishing this painting I can feel it.
My heart is beating fast and and my fingers are trembling.
I even have a title already, The Mermaid.

close up photo of the face (Jan 2013)

January's Essay

I AM STILL A PAINTER


About five years ago, I made a choice, a choice to be a teacher.

It was the spring of 2007. I had been painting and exhibiting in Philly for about a decade. Even though I had sold paintings, I worried about the future. During those ten years, I learned how difficult it would be for me to earn any kind of living from my artwork. I finally understood why my Dad never wanted me to study art. He wanted me to be financially stable. Despite his wise advice, which I totally dismissed as a young adult, I chose to be a painter. How did I make this choice? I declared “Painting” as my major in college. It seemed rather simple back then, but I was far from being any kind of artist. I was a student and I knew nothing. It would be years before I could comfortably introduce myself to new people as a painter.
 
Anyway, in the fall of 2007, I took a class, The History of Art Education, at Temple University with Dr. Jo-Anna Moore. I loved the class. I had forgotten how much I enjoyed being in a learning environment. My new professor came in the form of a soft-spoken grandmother, a persona that hid her startling intelligence. My new classmates were bright and inspiring as well, so I applied to Temple to pursue a Masters in Art Education.
 
For three years, I told myself that I was no longer an artist. I was making a new choice, a choice to earn a decent living from something else that I love, sharing my passion for art with students. I was on a new path. I wrapped up my studio and converted it into an office. I made artwork during the summer and in the studio classes I took at Tyler, but for the most part, my focus was elsewhere.
 
However, once the bulk of my class work was complete, I set up my studio again. I still had a master’s paper to write, but time was again on my side.
 
Before I graduated, I had an exit portfolio review. I showed pieces made during my time in graduate school. Even though I barely had time to make art, the room was full. Years prior, I thought I had to give up being an artist to be a teacher. As I looked around, I realized just how important artmaking is to me. Even when I had no time, I found time. One of my professors asked where I saw my work going. I held up my newest painting, one that I had just made in my recently converted studio/office space. I said, “This is a painting I made with only a palette knife, no brush. This is a new approach for me and I think I love it.” The painting I was referring to is Phillyscape. I added, “I want to make more like this one.”
 
And that is exactly what I have done. I made a dozen more in this new style and without realizing it, I was back to being a painter.
 
Yesterday, I revised my list of artworks. It is a list that includes 16 years of making art (1997-2013) after completing my BFA. The last entry is numbered 140. Looking over the list, I made a realization. My work did not get really good, according to my standards, until the year 2008. This means I spent about 11 years making mostly crap. It wasn’t crap to me when I made it, but now that I am older, I see much of my early work as practice. I was trying to be good, but I wasn’t good.
 
To truly understand what I am talking about, I will leave you with the best quote about being an artist, thanks to Ira Glass. Every working artist out there can sympathize.

January 27th, 2013
K. Cicalese

Feeling Monochromatic

Today's palette.

Two of my favorite things

Cats and drawing. Timeless loves.