About Stumbling Toward Artistry

“Every artist was first an amateur.”—Ralph Waldo Emerson (Sure, easy for you to say, Mr. Self-Reliance.)

 I believe there’s both an amateur and an artist in all of us. Every morning, when we wake to a blank canvas, there’s opportunity to make the best of things, to make things beautiful, or to make a big, fat mess! It’s our daily decisions that determine who becomes a piece of art, and who remains a piece of work.

This blog serves as my personal pursuit of artistry, and a place to scribe the heartbreak and hilarity of life. It’s a second act, which means more than just getting my act together. It’s about finding meaning in the mundane and joy in all the junk, so purpose has a chance to present itself. When it does, I’ll work hard and persevere, yet I might manage to make a mess of things. So should I create chaos, I’ll paint a silver lining and redecorate any dumb decisions. Because my missteps mean I’m human, a work in progress, and possibly even a masterpiece in the making! I think that’s reason enough to keep stumbling in the first place.

So, here’s to all aspiring artists ~ from the sculptor to the schoolteacher, the painter to the plumber, and the writer to the waitstaff. We’re all stumbling toward something, and a pinch of potential is all it takes to keep us bumbling along despite any setbacks. Heck, with enough perseverance, it’s possible to become gifted in any personal pursuit. In the meantime, it’s wise to develop an eye for the obvious—one that can recognize what is art and what is awful! That, my friend, is a skill in itself.

Author’s Statement – An Elevator Pitch from a Gal Who Would Rather Take the Stairs:

I’m swiftly moving through my fifth decade and have acquired enough wisdom to realize I lean more toward average than artisan. Therefore, I’ll continue to stumble over doing things right, while mostly doing them over. In the process, I’ll look at life through a lens of levity because $hit happens! Then again, so does the awe-inspiring stuff. And it’s with a sense of humor that I can bear the bitter and get to savoring the sweet.

So, here’s to my second act, where writing with an authentic voice feels a little audacious, and I rather like that. It’s a constant, albeit unsteady, climb as I strive toward something resembling that elusive label the experts call artistry.

Dedication:

I admire writers and photographers with equal reverence. I dedicate this blog to the spirit of two trailblazers who broke through both age and gender barriers. To learn more about my perspective of these heroines, Erma Bombeck and Dorthea Lange, read on…

In elementary school, I thought reading the newspaper would make me more intelligent than what a current report card revealed about my aptitude. After all, my dad read the paper and he was the smartest man in the neighborhood! He could do everything, from fixing complicated tax returns to completing any task involving tools. But other than these activities, I had no idea what my dad did while he was at work and I went to school.

One morning, I stumbled upon an article penned by the late Erma Bombeck. With its intriguing title, Daddy Doll Under the Bed, Bombeck Bombeck used humor to describe how a child perceives a father’s role. She also delivered an indelible doozy with her confusion about mourning a man who did nothing… other than everything of importance! That article beautifully exemplified how words can be mightier than any samurai sword could ever hope to be! My adolescent eyes read and reread that article to elicit the emotional response I was experiencing for the first time through written word. I’ve never forgotten it, nor the moment I realized a woman could write articles like that for the newspaper. “Humorist” was not a word in my childhood vocabulary.

Erma’s audience were the original “Real” Housewives of America.” She could scribe something about a casserole, or mending socks, and do it with such spectacular satire, the article would make it into every women’s magazine across America. She was that good! Her syndicated column launched when she was nearly 40 years of age (gasp!), and it ran for over 3 decades. Her talent remains unmatched and is utterly iconic. To Erma Bombeck, who left us too soon, you remain my hero of humor and perfection of prose. (Yes! I have attended the Erma Bombeck Writer’s Workshop in Dayton, OH. The best three days EVAH! )

Another equal to Erma in the field of forging new paths is the late documentary photographer, Dorthea Lange. She said, “The camera is an instrument that teaches people how to see without a camera.” Thank you, Dorthea, for opening my eyes. While most women of your era were in the kitchen, you documented the faces of Americans stumbling through the Depression. Life through your lens produced an authentic display of the human condition, and your photographs prove that human perseverance can and will prevail.

**Disclaimer / Important Things to Know: The stuff I’ve scribed on this blog is not written with help from Artificial IntelligenceI, or an English tutor. Perhaps I’ll reconsider the English tutor…but only if they are from the country of England itself. That way, I can hear their criticism delivered in a proper, hoity-toity accent while I pretend to not give a crumpet about their opinion.

For now, all ramblings, misspellings, and/or poor grammar come from my own intellect. Most of the photos and/or art are from my Canon 80D, my iPhone, or something I’ve created using Canva. Some stuff is stolen straight from the world wide web because it’s far superior to anything I’ll ever be able to create!

I will ALWAYS give credit where credit is due. All artists should absolutely receive the kudos and the creds they deserve.

Keep Stumbling!

~ SKM