The Starving Artist

Even if you don't think you're an artist

The Starving Artist, 

To the nourished artist. 

Even if you don’t think you’re an artist. 

Growing up, I wanted to be an artist. My aunty was one, and I thought she was really cool. She traveled the world and painted. 

My mum was (and is) an Artist too. In so many ways, but I have memories of her always sketching portraits for people in the community for their birthdays, 

She was a primary school art teacher also, so teacher was my 6 year old me backup plan. 

My dad was an artist, but he didn’t know he was. He was an artist in the way he crafted lessons (also a teacher), the way he planned out food gardens at the schools he worked at, and in the way he thought of creative experiences for the kids. He once had all the kids in his class take plastic tables and chairs out into the lagoon to float and eat lunch while learning about the ocean. 

He organised community events that brought people together. He was an artist in the way he raised us, and in the way he encored thought provoking conversations and problem solving skills. 

I knew I could draw, and paint. 

I sold my first painting when I was 12. It was of a cow. I had hot glued rusty barb wire on the front of the canvas to replicate a fence. 

An old man in the community called Tony, who I hadn’t met before bought it from me, I remember visiting his house years later when his wife passed and it still sat on top of his microwave, alongside another painting I did for his wife. 

I wrote stories of fairies and mythical kingdoms my entire childhood too, sketching each character and giving them a very in depth life story each. 

Though, I din’t know anyone who was an artist and wealthy within that career… other than my aunt. 

Therefore when it came to “deciding on a career”… Artist moved down the list quickly. 

I chose fine art as a subject, and almost failed due to not always fitting into the lines of the brief, and having little interest in theory. Which is ironic, because art is subjective, therefore in the hands of those who experience it. Not a brief. 

I got turned off art after that. 

Hung up my “artist” hat in the metaphorical wardrobe where all my childhood dreams were. 

Childish dreams.
I had told myself. 

Not proper, true, real adult aspirations. 

Because I’ll have bills to pay. 

And everyone knows, artists starve. 

Artists starve. 

A two part story. 

Part one - Society doesn’t value artists in the way they value academia. Forgetting that art is what makes this world breathe. 

Part two - Artists don’t value themselves because they see themselves through the eyes of a trained society rather than through their own innocent heart. 

When I close my eyes, 

I don’t see a world where artists have to fight to be seen, or to be taken seriously. 

I see a world where artists are one of the most valued professions. 

A career not for the fainthearted. 

A world where the feelers, the seer’s, the movers, the creators, the painters and poets and music makers are all taking up space. 

In a general society that values academia, the mind, and perfectionism, 

It’s more important than ever that artists take there art seriously. 

Know that what they make is valid and important. 

The way I see it, Art is the literal thread to the heart. 

It’s what brings beauty to the world. 

It’s how emotion is translated, through music, through writing.  

How stories are told. 

Through movies and books. 

It’s how experiences are crafted, spaces are held, the way we move ourselves, THROUGH art. 

It infuses into the way we relate,  how we mother, how we connect to the world. 

And even if you don’t associate as an artist, you are without a doubt impacted by many. 

If you watch Netflix - art

If you see any sort of branding anywhere - art

If you read stories - art

If you create craft activities for your children - art

If you take time to style yourself each morning. - art

If you listen to any form of music - art

If you see buildings and architecture - art

If you view content on social media - art

Art has transformed this world, from simple poems being written on scrappy paper by a man down on the riverbank, 

To paintings on ceilings, to stained glass, or beautifully Made furniture. The clothes we wear, the way a conversation is designed on a podcast, and even down to where we plant flowers in the garden anticipating a colourful bloom. It’s all art. 

It’s a form of communication, and my absolute favourite. 

I love to watch the way people move and convey stories through dance. 

I love to see a musician craft a soundscape. 

I love to watch a facilitator craft an experience. 

I love to watch how somebody cultivates a beautiful space and home.

I find having a romantic perspective of life and of others inspires my art more than anything else. 

We have enough cynics and pessimists in this world, sucking out the beauty, 

So I want to breathe life INTO the beauty of this life, and create a more nourishing feedback loop with what I experience around me. 

That’s the wonder of artists. They find the beauty in pain, sadness, grief, discomfort. The beauty in longing and lusting, and believing in something. 

They find the magic in human connection, and heart break and even down to the way we tie shoe laces in the morning. 

The gift of the artist is that they cultivate an experience and open a perspective that may not have previously been available to us. 

The gift of the artist to the self, is to begin to see the self through the eyes of an artist, and through the eyes of someone who enjoys receiving art, rather than through they eyes of general mainstream academia. 

I’m learning more and more that art is luxury. It’s luxury that should be for everyone, 

But often it’s only truly seen by few. 

Art is essential. Necessary. We would starve WITHOUT IT rather than for it. 

Many artists I speak to, struggle to financially support themselves with their art because of the beliefs that

• Because it may come naturally they shouldn’t get paid. 

• It’s not worthy of being a full time career.

• It’s enjoyable therefore not “hard enough” to be paid for. 

• Others don’t value it or understand the time, confidence, years that go into the skills.

Many artists also are creating FROM THEIR HEART therefore it feels as though they aren’t just putting their craft into the world to be received but that they are actually putting THEMSELVES into the world to be received. And that’s incredibly vulnerable. 

Scary. 

More often than not, we’ve linked our art so closely with an expression of who we are, that if it’s not enjoyed, that means WE are not enjoyed. Theres little separation from ourselves and what we make and create. 

To put a monetary value on our art, and to feel nourished by the exchange, can feel like such a disconnect because if we don’t hold value for ourselves, and that we - are actually a value to society just as we are and therefore through our art, it can create our own biggest cockblock to be seen fully. 

MAKE YOUR ART. 

SELL YOUR ART. 

MAKE MONEY ALONGSIDE CREATIVITY AND HAPPINESS

YOUR ART IS MEDICINE

YOU ARE SAFE TO BE SEEN 

AND

YOU ARE NOT YOUR ART. It moves through you. 

Artists that are paid for their work, become artists who feel seen and valued for their ability to communicate and translate through mediums that move people. 

They become artists who gain confidence and gain resources to then create even more beautiful art. 

Blogs become a book. 

A sketch pad becomes the centrepiece painting in someones home that they look at every day. 

A women’s circle becomes an event that transforms hundreds of womens lives. 

An Idea becomes a movie. 

A song in a bedroom after a breakup becomes a best seller that helps many hearts heal. 

And I’m not saying all art needs to be big. 

Many of the most powerful experiences as an artist can be the hidden, private, intimate art of our lives. 

But what I am saying is that resources in the hands of artists is magical and wonderful. 

The ways I try and support artists is I buy their art. 

I just ordered a ceramic butter dish from @madelinescout_

I paid my friend @the.edwina.masson to make and record my podcast intro song. 

I shop locally for art like hand dyed baby clothes and prints to gift friends. 

Another way is to talk about the art you love. Word of mouth is free and powerful. 

And lastly, if you’re an artist, Don’t wait for the world to catch up. Breathe life into the world you want to create. 

Reflect on the stories we tell ourselves as to why our art won’t work, 

And give ourselves the space to allow it to nourish us in all the ways it can. 

Though my book and poetry prints aren’t yet ready or available, 

One way you can support my art, 

Is that if you feel as though you receive 2 cups of coffee a month worth of value from what I share here on sub stack, 

Please consider becoming a paid subscriber. It’s something I hadn’t initially decided to do (cause I really only just learned what sub stack was in the first place haha)

But since being here on this platform and writing and sharing in this way, 

I’ve decided to let this form of art nourish my family. 

I will of course be offering free publications, but for those wanting a more intimate and deep share specifically my next journey of conscious conception, mother to mother and that unraveling, some spoken word audios and poetry, and first access to my physical art (prints/book) when they are ready please consider the paid subscription upgrade. 

I don’t want this to be a barrier to entry for anyone so please get in contact if this is beyond your means but feels important for you to be apart of. 

Below is a discount for FOUNDING SUBSCRIBERS

that is available until November 17

Lots of love to you all, 

Thank you for being here in whatever form you are. 

It’s appreciated way more than you’ll likely ever know. 

I’ve really enjoyed the Longform, uncensored writing but ALSO the Longform comments from you guys. It’s so beautiful to receive such engaged responses so thank you for being apart of the conversation here xx

Kat