Starving Artists: Our Unsung Cultural Heroes

After suffering one of life’s inevitable kick-in-the-pants recently, I discovered my joy of painting had seemingly vanished.  This was particularly distressing because I am the proverbial Starving Artist you’ve heard tell about, and things were hard enough already.

Actually, I am one of many.  A charter member of this proud, but hungry, tribe, we’re the same the world over.  Despite cultural differences, the one thing we all have in common is scrambling to push our creativity on to an unwilling world; to earn enough for rent and maybe the next show’s entrance fee. Nowadays especially, that’s not easy.

I speak from experience.  In order to prevent becoming homeless, I recently went into hock to purchase a used 16 foot self-contained travel trailer, along with a stunning old truck to move it, should I choose.  It is my home and my studio. Despite this mobility I have decided to curtail my gypsy lifestyle and settle in beautiful Southern Oregon. Starting over yet again, I’ve managed to rent a modest space in a quiet, peaceful RV park on a month to month basis, comforted by the thought that if I can’t make the rent, in a pinch I can park overnight at Wal-Mart. How did I get to this point?