Professional Change

Does being a professional artist change the experience of making art? Well, sure it does. When we are children, we make art whenever and however our hearts desire. The only payment we expect is to have our work hung in the refrigerator gallery, or the applause of our friends and family at the living room theatre. When we become teenagers, most of us are aware that we can turn a profit by doing what we love, and many of us begin to choose educational paths that will lead to that end. As young adults, we think we are prepared for what it is to be a professional artist, but we quickly find out there is so much more to it than anyone ever let on, or should I say, much more to it than we were ever willing to hear. I remember the jolt of being on my own for the first time, expecting that my dancing was going to support me stably, comfortably, and immediately. I always told myself that I was never going to be a "starving artist." Little did I know that I was going to have to climb the ladder, just like everyone else. And climb, I did: with many undesirable jobs to support my art habit that included restaurant work, working with young children, retail, desk work, volunteer work for dance and art organizations to "get my foot in the door," and so on, and so forth. When I finally made the decision that I was going to make art my only source of income for good, I was in for a wild ride!

I quickly found out that to work as a freelance artist, I had to give up much of the precious time I would spend on a given project to meet deadlines. I had to listen to the input of collaborators or clients that were not artists. I had to go places I did not want to go. I had to make stuff I didn't even like. Sounds awful, doesn't it? But it's not awful. This is probably one of the best things that has ever happened to me. Because of all the unexpected curve balls, crazy hours, difficult collaborators and half-realized visions, I have learned more about my artistic process than any one person could ever teach me. I understand that sometimes, the unexpected curve balls are what saves a piece of work. I understand that not every single work you make needs to be a masterpiece. I understand the value of collaboration and that sometimes, the work is more about connecting with others, than it is about making great art. And most of all, I have learned to be grateful for the opportunity to do what I love everyday. With becoming professional, my personal process has become more efficient, which means I can create a greater volume of work over the course of a season. It has helped me to see a problem from all sides, and to be more objective. I now know how to deal with fear in my work. When someone is paying you to make something that scares you, you just do it!

Often, I wonder how it would be to just have my art as a hobby, where no one is pressuring me to get something done by a certain date, or how it would be to not have to rely on my work to pay the bills. I feel frantic, sometimes, and pile on more than I can really handle. I worry when gigs fall through, and get disappointed when an application for a festival or residency gets turned down. But for some reason, I keep coming back. I keep showing up to rehearsal, writing my proposals and performing my work. The truth is, I find it exhilarating! I think being professional for many of us, brings us to the next level of our making, and helps us tap into parts of us we never knew were there. I'm confident that I will find the time in my life to make art in a leisurely fashion. Until the, I look forward to continued growth and opportunity!

~Cara