what do you long for?
What do you long for? That was the question.
My answer was resounding. We’ll get to that. But first, we have to go back.
I spent the decade of 1997-2007 in college, desperately trying to find my place in this world. I tried all the things. Psychology. Nursing. Business. The practical things.
All the while, I was taking art classes for fun. Ceramics. Glass. Art history.
Finally, after all else had failed, I allowed myself to want what I wanted. And what I wanted was art. I threw myself at this new endeavor with gusto. I took all the classes in all the mediums. At community college, then at university.
It was exhilarating. And it was hard. Hard because I was vacillating between periods of sobriety and dark alcoholic episodes. Hard because I didn’t have basic life skills or the emotional resilience required to be in the arts. And hard because, and I am only realizing this now, I didn’t really know what I wanted to say with my art.
Toward the end of this art college experience, I got sober and found yoga. I was encouraged to go to teacher training. And I wanted to go. I needed to go.
The fact that life took me in this new direction, I am eternally grateful for. Yoga has been my foundation. For lasting sobriety. For those basic life skills I previously lacked. For that emotional resilience. Empowerment. Strength. Agency.
But in order to choose yoga, and again I’m only realizing this in hindsight, I had to vilify art. All those long conceptual conversations. The inability to just let beauty be the reason. The fancy lexicon. The pretentiousness of it all.
I walked away. Into yoga. Into 12 step recovery. Into healing.
And when I stumbled into this jewelry business a decade later, it was a portal back to my creativity. And the maker world was the softest possible landing. Supportive. Accepting. Affirming.
And I have been deeply happy here.
AND when the question came, what do you long for? The answer was Art.
I long for art. To make it. To read about it. To ponder it. To have long conversations about form and light and symbolism and technique and beauty. All those things I had to vilify in order to heal, I now long for.
And I am ready.
My answer was resounding. We’ll get to that. But first, we have to go back.
I spent the decade of 1997-2007 in college, desperately trying to find my place in this world. I tried all the things. Psychology. Nursing. Business. The practical things.
All the while, I was taking art classes for fun. Ceramics. Glass. Art history.
Finally, after all else had failed, I allowed myself to want what I wanted. And what I wanted was art. I threw myself at this new endeavor with gusto. I took all the classes in all the mediums. At community college, then at university.
It was exhilarating. And it was hard. Hard because I was vacillating between periods of sobriety and dark alcoholic episodes. Hard because I didn’t have basic life skills or the emotional resilience required to be in the arts. And hard because, and I am only realizing this now, I didn’t really know what I wanted to say with my art.
Toward the end of this art college experience, I got sober and found yoga. I was encouraged to go to teacher training. And I wanted to go. I needed to go.
The fact that life took me in this new direction, I am eternally grateful for. Yoga has been my foundation. For lasting sobriety. For those basic life skills I previously lacked. For that emotional resilience. Empowerment. Strength. Agency.
But in order to choose yoga, and again I’m only realizing this in hindsight, I had to vilify art. All those long conceptual conversations. The inability to just let beauty be the reason. The fancy lexicon. The pretentiousness of it all.
I walked away. Into yoga. Into 12 step recovery. Into healing.
And when I stumbled into this jewelry business a decade later, it was a portal back to my creativity. And the maker world was the softest possible landing. Supportive. Accepting. Affirming.
And I have been deeply happy here.
AND when the question came, what do you long for? The answer was Art.
I long for art. To make it. To read about it. To ponder it. To have long conversations about form and light and symbolism and technique and beauty. All those things I had to vilify in order to heal, I now long for.
And I am ready.