self. It may not always come naturally, but we can be taught.

There’s a reason they call it “art work.” It takes work. I mean a LOT of work! People tell me all the time that I’m talented. I suppose I might be, but I’m much prouder of my skills than my talent. All the talent in the world won’t help you a bit if you don’t practice. Maybe I was “given” talent, but the skills I worked hard for. Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate compliments, but they just don’t pay the rent.

On the other side of my “Yes, I am the artist” sign, it says “That’s very nice, now BUY SOMETHING!” It’s not that I’m greedy. There are many reasons to choose a career in the arts, but a deep abiding attachment to material gain is not usually among them. Having someone fork out hard earned cash for your work is the ultimate professional validation. I absolutely LOVE it! It also makes my business accounting a lot easier when there’s actual cash flow.

I suppose that must be another misconception about artists; that we all have

I run my own business as a commercial artist and illustrator. In addition to event work and my web site, www.slushgem.com I also set up at art shows. I put up a large display of framed pieces behind a table and sell prints to the public. People often ask me if I’m the artist who did the work. This question always struck me as very odd. But I thought to myself perhaps it’s understandable. Just because I happen to know that artists do this all the time, doesn’t mean most people do. And maybe they didn’t see that the name on the tag I wear matches the big sign behind me that says “The Art of Paula Tabor.”

So, I made a little sign to clip on tag that says, “Yes, I am the artist.” I thought this would be a slightly more positive sales technique than a blank look and a “Well, duh!” But they still ask all the time. One day, I was wearing the tag, the sign, a canvas in front of me, brushes in my hand and a guys asks me if I was the one who made all that art! That time I did say “Duh!”

I began to wonder why it would seem so very unlikely that I’m an artist. When I asked around, some of my fellow artists thought its because I’m female. The public must assume that I’m the artist’s wife or girlfriend. I suppose it’s possible that that might be part of it, but I don’t think that’s the whole reason.

So, if it’s not some vast sexist conspiracy, perhaps it’s because I seem so…well, normal. I’m not some surly French guy with a beret, two days stubble and an existential crisis. I wonder if they can’t believe that this tax paying, professionally dressed person with an honors degree and a middle seven hundreds credit rating could possibly be an artist.

Why do so many people have such weird ideas about artists? Partly, I blame artists. Some in the creative community feel they have to shock the public, not only out of their complacency, but just to get their own existence acknowledged. America seems to have such a love/ignore relationship with its artists that, quite frankly, I can’t blame them. I’m sure Dali had a grand old time ‘putting the woof in barking mad,” but he was right when he said he wasn’t crazy. You simply don’t achieve that kind of superb master craftsmanship by blithering in a corner.

Some artists are very unconventional. Some are tortured and some are creatively frustrated--not just financially, like me. There’s nothing wrong with any of those things, it’s just the stereotype that annoys me. It reinforces the concept that creativity is not attainable by the everyday person. Is suffering necessary for greatness? I have no idea. I just decided long ago that if anonymous anguish was necessary to achieve greatness, I would unabashedly rather be mediocre and happy.

Yes, history is filled with juicy, dramatic stories of suffering, unappreciated masters. But dull historical truth contains LOTS of artists who were productive, successful, admired and lived to a ripe old age. Obscure artists? Try Da Vinci and Michelangelo. Too archaic? Norman Rockwell and Maxfield Parrish are a bit more recent. There are many, many more.

So why don’t I play the part? I could, I’ve actually done quite a bit of performing. I could simply “act” like what people might expect an artist to be. But if I could be happy being something I’m not, I’d be an accountant. I’d have money, a large home and lavish things like…health insurance. Yet, I work my ass off in this crazy, risky, frustrating profession because I am an artist and because I love it. The fact that I’m also very organized, fairly punctual and rather good at my own bookkeeping helps my business a whole lot more than quirky flakiness.

I don’t think it’s just my conventional appearance that people find so unlikely. I suspect that some simply cannot believe that a creator of art could possibly be the flesh and blood creature before them. No, the Great Master must be off in his studio, while this lowly lackey takes in the cash. Newsflash people: most artists do their own marketing. Not because they like it or because they’re necessarily even good at it. It just has to be done. If you can’t afford to have someone do it for you, you do it yourself. It may not always come naturally, but we can be taught.

There’s a reason they call it “art work.” It takes work. I mean a LOT of work! People tell me all the time that I’m talented. I suppose I might be, but I’m much prouder of my skills than my talent. All the talent in the world won’t help you a bit if you don’t practice. Maybe I was “given” talent, but the skills I worked hard for. Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate compliments, but they just don’t pay the rent.

On the other side of my “Yes, I am the artist” sign, it says “That’s very nice, now BUY SOMETHING!” It’s not that I’m greedy. There are many reasons to choose a career in the arts, but a deep abiding attachment to material gain is not usually among them. Having someone fork out hard earned cash for your work is the ultimate professional validation. I absolutely LOVE it! It also makes my business accounting a lot easier when there’s actual cash flow.

I suppose that must be another misconception about artists; that we all have r

very unlikely that I’m an artist. When I asked around, some of my fellow artists thought its because I’m female. The public must assume that I’m the artist’s wife or girlfriend. I suppose it’s possible that that might be part of it, but I don’t think that’s the whole reason.

So, if it’s not some vast sexist conspiracy, perhaps it’s because I seem so…well, normal. I’m not some surly French guy with a beret, two days stubble and an existential crisis. I wonder if they can’t believe that this tax paying, professionally dressed person with an honors degree and a middle seven hundreds credit rating could possibly be an artist.

Why do so many people have such weird ideas about artists? Partly, I blame artists. Some in the creative community feel they have to shock the public, not only out of their complacency, but just to get their own existence acknowledged. America seems to have such a love/ignore relationship with its artists that, quite frankly, I can’t blame them. I’m sure Dali had a grand old time ‘putting the woof in barking mad,” but he was right when he said he wasn’t crazy. You simply don’t achieve that kind of superb master craftsmanship by blithering in a corner.

Some artists are very unconventional. Some are tortured and some are creatively frustrated--not just financially, like me. There’s nothing wrong with any of those things, it’s just the stereotype that annoys me. It reinforces the concept that creativity is not attainable by the everyday person. Is suffering necessary for greatness? I have no idea. I just decided long ago that if anonymous anguish was necessary to achieve greatness, I would unabashedly rather be mediocre and happy.

Yes, history is filled with juicy, dramatic stories of suffering, unappreciated masters. But dull historical truth contains LOTS of artists who were productive, successful, admired and lived to a ripe old age. Obscure artists? Try Da Vinci and Michelangelo. Too archaic? Norman Rockwell and Maxfield Parrish are a bit more recent. There are many, many more.

So why don’t I play the part? I could, I’ve actually done quite a bit of performing. I could simply “act” like what people might expect an artist to be. But if I could be happy being something I’m not, I’d be an accountant. I’d have money, a large home and lavish things like…health insurance. Yet, I work my ass off in this crazy, risky, frustrating profession because I am an artist and because I love it. The fact that I’m also very organized, fairly punctual and rather good at my own bookkeeping helps my business a whole lot more than quirky flakiness.

I don’t think it’s just my conventional appearance that people find so unlikely. I suspect that some simply cannot believe that a creator of art could possibly be the flesh and blood creature before them. No, the Great Master must be off in his studio, while this lowly lackey takes in the cash. Newsflash people: most artists do their own marketing. Not because they like it or because they’re necessarily even good at it. It just has to be done. If you can’t afford to have someone do it for you, you do it yourself. It may not always come naturally, but we can be taught.

There’s a reason they call it “art work.” It takes work. I mean a LOT of work! People tell me all the time that I’m talented. I suppose I might be, but I’m much prouder of my skills than my talent. All the talent in the world won’t help you a bit if you don’t practice. Maybe I was “given” talent, but the skills I worked hard for. Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate compliments, but they just don’t pay the rent.

On the other side of my “Yes, I am the artist” sign, it says “That’s very nice, now BUY SOMETHING!” It’s not that I’m greedy. There are many reasons to choose a career in the arts, but a deep abiding attachment to material gain is not usually among them. Having someone fork out hard earned cash for your work is the ultimate professional validation. I absolutely LOVE it! It also makes my business accounting a lot easier when there’s actual cash flow.

I suppose that must be another misconception about artists; that we all have

ing mad,” but he was right when he said he wasn’t crazy. You simply don’t achieve that kind of superb master craftsmanship by blithering in a corner.

Some artists are very unconventional. Some are tortured and some are creatively frustrated--not just financially, like me. There’s nothing wrong with any of those things, it’s just the stereotype that annoys me. It reinforces the concept that creativity is not attainable by the everyday person. Is suffering necessary for greatness? I have no idea. I just decided long ago that if anonymous anguish was necessary to achieve greatness, I would unabashedly rather be mediocre and happy.

Yes, history is filled with juicy, dramatic stories of suffering, unappreciated masters. But dull historical truth contains LOTS of artists who were productive, successful, admired and lived to a ripe old age. Obscure artists? Try Da Vinci and Michelangelo. Too archaic? Norman Rockwell and Maxfield Parrish are a bit more recent. There are many, many more.

So why don’t I play the part? I could, I’ve actually done quite a bit of performing. I could simply “act” like what people might expect an artist to be. But if I could be happy being something I’m not, I’d be an accountant. I’d have money, a large home and lavish things like…health insurance. Yet, I work my ass off in this crazy, risky, frustrating profession because I am an artist and because I love it. The fact that I’m also very organized, fairly punctual and rather good at my own bookkeeping helps my business a whole lot more than quirky flakiness.

I don’t think it’s just my conventional appearance that people find so unlikely. I suspect that some simply cannot believe that a creator of art could possibly be the flesh and blood creature before them. No, the Great Master must be off in his studio, while this lowly lackey takes in the cash. Newsflash people: most artists do their own marketing. Not because they like it or because they’re necessarily even good at it. It just has to be done. If you can’t afford to have someone do it for you, you do it yourself. It may not always come naturally, but we can be taught.

There’s a reason they call it “art work.” It takes work. I mean a LOT of work! People tell me all the time that I’m talented. I suppose I might be, but I’m much prouder of my skills than my talent. All the talent in the world won’t help you a bit if you don’t practice. Maybe I was “given” talent, but the skills I worked hard for. Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate compliments, but they just don’t pay the rent.

On the other side of my “Yes, I am the artist” sign, it says “That’s very nice, now BUY SOMETHING!” It’s not that I’m greedy. There are many reasons to choose a career in the arts, but a deep abiding attachment to material gain is not usually among them. Having someone fork out hard earned cash for your work is the ultimate professional validation. I absolutely LOVE it! It also makes my business accounting a lot easier when there’s actual cash flow.

I suppose that must be another misconception about artists; that we all have

ould, I’ve actually done quite a bit of performing. I could simply “act” like what people might expect an artist to be. But if I could be happy being something I’m not, I’d be an accountant. I’d have money, a large home and lavish things like…health insurance. Yet, I work my ass off in this crazy, risky, frustrating profession because I am an artist and because I love it. The fact that I’m also very organized, fairly punctual and rather good at my own bookkeeping helps my business a whole lot more than quirky flakiness.

I don’t think it’s just my conventional appearance that people find so unlikely. I suspect that some simply cannot believe that a creator of art could possibly be the flesh and blood creature before them. No, the Great Master must be off in his studio, while this lowly lackey takes in the cash. Newsflash people: most artists do their own marketing. Not because they like it or because they’re necessarily even good at it. It just has to be done. If you can’t afford to have someone do it for you, you do it yourself. It may not always come naturally, but we can be taught.

There’s a reason they call it “art work.” It takes work. I mean a LOT of work! People tell me all the time that I’m talented. I suppose I might be, but I’m much prouder of my skills than my talent. All the talent in the world won’t help you a bit if you don’t practice. Maybe I was “given” talent, but the skills I worked hard for. Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate compliments, but they just don’t pay the rent.

On the other side of my “Yes, I am the artist” sign, it says “That’s very nice, now BUY SOMETHING!” It’s not that I’m greedy. There are many reasons to choose a career in the arts, but a deep abiding attachment to material gain is not usually among them. Having someone fork out hard earned cash for your work is the ultimate professional validation. I absolutely LOVE it! It also makes my business accounting a lot easier when there’s actual cash flow.

I suppose that must be another misconception about artists; that we all have

self. It may not always come naturally, but we can be taught.

There’s a reason they call it “art work.” It takes work. I mean a LOT of work! People tell me all the time that I’m talented. I suppose I might be, but I’m much prouder of my skills than my talent. All the talent in the world won’t help you a bit if you don’t practice. Maybe I was “given” talent, but the skills I worked hard for. Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate compliments, but they just don’t pay the rent.

On the other side of my “Yes, I am the artist” sign, it says “That’s very nice, now BUY SOMETHING!” It’s not that I’m greedy. There are many reasons to choose a career in the arts, but a deep abiding attachment to material gain is not usually among them. Having someone fork out hard earned cash for your work is the ultimate professional validation. I absolutely LOVE it! It also makes my business accounting a lot easier when there’s actual cash flow.

I suppose that must be another misconception about artists; that we all have rich patrons with nothing better to do than support us. Not in this century! What is the saying? Oh yes; “The real National Endowment for the Arts in America is unemployment compensation.” I don’t know who said it, but they were right on the (lack of) money. Oh, well. I guess I’ll just have to do more art work.