A friend recently referred to my sketching habits as undisciplined. My friend is an artist and a very special person to me. I value her opinion. It has been 2 days since we were sketching together on her back porch and I keep coming back to this statement.
It intrigues me. I have never been referred to as undisciplined before. Before working as an artist, I wore different titles in the corporate world. Analyst, Senior Analyst, supervisor, consultant, senior consultant, project analyst, sr. project analyst…. the longer you work the more names they call you.
I did a great job. I took my work seriously. I was punctual, effective, innovative, assertive, sometimes cynical, aggressive, and dis-heartened. But never undisciplined. I spent hours and hours straightening and cleaning up field names and data types. Testing and re-testing, running code, changing code, re-running code. Working overtime, staying late, coming in early, logging on at night to check on the dinosaur (mainframe). Managing teams. Preparing agendas for meetings, both on paper and of course the hidden agenda that you discuss with your boss when no one else is around. I networked. I dressed professionally. I behaved professionally. No long, colorful, dangly earring at work for me !!! no way, I must present myself in a manner that will earn respect and promotions!
Look at me now. Cindy Davis, artist.
I am undisciplined at something !! What at first seemed like well meant constructive feedback from a woman whose friendship I treasure, has become my mantra for the week. I love being undisciplined. I paint fast. I get it down on canvas quickly before I chicken out. I don’t think too much about it. OK that is a lie. I TRY to not think to much about it. I TRY to not analyze the colors, the composition TOO much. I want emotion to show through. I want people to see ME in my art. I want them to see that I have stuff inside that conflicts with what they see on the outside.
I AM MORE THAN A MIDDLE AGED WIFE AND MOTHER LIVING A QUIET, WELL-BEHAVED LIFE IN A SMALL SOUTHERN TOWN WHO USED TO HAVE A REAL JOB AT A LARGE CORPORATION IN A LARGE CITY AND A BLAND CUBICLE AND WHO NEVER USED TO USE RUN ON SENTENCES AND BAD GRAMMER LIKE I AM DOING NOW.
If this is a middle age crisis, then so be it. Bring it on. I am going to REFUSE discipline for my art. My art may be the only extension of myself in which I can be un-harnessed. I can’t imagine how a painting can hurt someone’s feelings or be improper or impolite. Well maybe a little impolite won’t be so bad, even in Albany, Georgia. I want my art to scream. I want my art to sing and shout and dance around and wear dangling earring anytime anywhere. My art gives me a freedom I have never had before and I will never give it without a fight.
