Kara L. Morrison
Opinion/Perspective
February 8, 2015
Adventures In Artistsville
Vol. II
Love And Art, A Tricky Recipe
It's that time of year again: Walgreen's is overflowing with flurries of red, white, and pink. Everywhere you turn there are candies, cards, and unusual stuffed animals that are usually clutching plush hearts embroidered with the words, "Be Mine" on them. No matter your feelings about February the 14th, it seems that if you ever leave your home or watch TV at this time of year, you will be reminded of this impending occasion time and time again. For the sake of this article, I suppose it's only fair to share my personal feelings on St. Valentine's day: It truly differs. Some years I'm all about it, other years it fills me with dread, but I never write it off completely because I look forward to the day that I can really, really celebrate it by purchasing all of the slightly distorted, plush, Walgreen's dachshunds that my loved one can handle. Sure, I've bought Valentine's Day gifts for significant others in the past, but when gifting something "cute-sy" I always delivered them with a note of sarcasm because it felt silly. Of course, it is silly, but I've since learned that giving a gift from the most loving and sweet part of you is the only real way to go about it. That being said...if you're reading this please don't try setting me up with anyone, that seems to be happening a lot lately...trust me, I'm good, my friends (eeek).
This week's Adventures In Artistsville actually took place in (*gulp*) my counselor's office. Yep, you read that right, I go to counseling, and while it feels strange to share that fact, there's no shame in admitting it. I'm committed to my own happiness and health and counseling helps discover things just by talking through them. I starting going to counseling back in college when I had a hard time juggling my personal life and my chosen major: Theatre Arts with an emphasis in Acting. Whoa...It actually wasn't until this very moment that I realized that the very same circumstances are what brought me back to the couch.
Now, like most Artists and Theatre folks, there's a fairly blurred line that sits between career and relationships. I'm personally a big fan of being surrounded by like-minded people. I sometimes struggle relating (and vice versa) to "normies"-those not involved in creative work. Artists are notorious for dating and befriending people in their field; it's nice to have someone around that understands the wacko stress that we go through before each audition, photoshoot, or performance. But...sometimes the wacko stress proves to be a mighty strain.
My counselor (a very sweet, warm, and kind woman) always seems to be very interested in how I manage to function as an artist. "Do you worry about rejection when you audition?" "Not really", "Do you worry about romantic rejection?" "Umm. Let's not go there." BOOM. And there it is, I've broken the first rule about being an artist: being open. Each time I have an appointment, I make it a point to let down another wall and really say the deep feelings that I don't really discuss with anyone else. I've laid out every flaw of myself on that couch as well well as some of the issues that I've run into in past relationships and the more I reveal, more dots finally begin to connect. One of those dots brought me a discovery. It wasn't a pleasant discovery, but a discovery nonetheless to actually realize that being in an Artist + Artist relationship sometimes ='s AWESOME...but also sometimes equals ='s TOUGH. This is why I don't like math, you guys. Why don't we always come out with a great sum?
There are a lot of things that happen when Artists come together with other Artists. I've watched (and sometimes participated in) both the demise and flourish of relationships in the arts.
Don't see what I mean yet? Here some things to think about:
(In my experience) Artists are often very passionate, sensitive, and very dedicated to both their partners and their careers. Balancing any two large and important sections of your life will always be tricky, although certainly not impossible. Also, because work in the arts is so difficult to come by, we're used to packing up and settling in new places, away from our partners--this translates into those darned long-distance relationships. Any couple that survives strain and makes it to the long-term, deserves a medal. I completely admire and applaud you. It's tough, and there are a lot of outside factors that prove to be powerful.
During a chat towards the end of my morning appointment the counselor says, "You sound like you're grieving." "Hmm? What do you mean?" "You just said that you and several of your most treasured relationships have been plagued by distance." "Yes..." "Do you struggle with the fact that your career has put you in some difficult positions with your significant others?" "Yes. My career or things revolving around my career have caused a few bumps in the road. I guess I had a duel image of my life. Smooth career. Smooth love life. I envisioned everything being stable and moving together fluidly." "But you've discovered that sometimes those things move in opposite directions." "Yes, I guess it's hitting me that while I achieve things in my career, I have to place my focus there...when I want to split my focus a little more between career and love. I haven't been stable enough in my work to make both go smoothly. I'm grieving the fact that it's difficult for me to make both happen at once...and I don't know how long it will take me to figure it out. It could take years and that's a sad thought." "Yes, you're grieving the loss of your positive expectations. Your reality is centered differently than you thought it would be." I suppose my glass was half full before I even placed it under the tap. I spent so much time worrying about having it all, that I wasn't paying enough attention to having most of it right. This, my friends, is why I need to talk things out. I'm not the strongest communicator, especially not with myself. I knew that I had been sad about something, but I couldn't work out the puzzle until I was given the vocabulary and the thought process to form those words. Through counseling and my own self-reflection, I'm learning about necessary balance. I'm a long list of conflicting things. I'm rebellious, but I'm sweet. I'm young and free, but I've been told by the people that I admire that I'm an old soul. I love the idea of love but I've occasionally been known to struggle with the idea of commitment. I yearn to be open but I lock up emotions internally. These interesting little quirks are what make me Kara. These quirks are the things that will eventually teach me how to balance it all. Career, fitness, love, reading, watching Jimmy Stewart films; you know, the good stuff.
You mustn't get me wrong, I've seen some beautiful, healthy relationships work between artists. I admire the designers, actors, technicians, painters that make it work year after year: I strive to find that mutual balance, commitment, and dedication with someone special someday. I'm not saying that the recipe for Love and Artists is impossible...I'm just saying that if you've had difficulty, it's okay...we've just got to go back to the kitchen a time or two to add in a pinch of self-discovery. In the meantime, focusing on myself and my career proves satisfying...after all, they were my two first loves and they deserve my attention.
Kara L. Morrison
Catch more from Adventures In Artistsville soon!
