I'm an artist with a chronic illness. It took me a long time to allow myself to say that.
"I'm not really an artist, if I'm not doing it as a full time job," I would tell myself.
"I don't have a chronic illness. It's a genetic condition. I was born with it. I just have to learn to live with it. If I try hard enough I won't be sick all the time."
I didn't feel I deserved the label "artist" and I sure as hell didn't want the label "chronically ill."
But this is where we are.
This is what's true.
I am an artist with a chronic illness.
I am an artist because I create art. It's pretty simple. Art brings me joy and is a cornerstone of my existence. I make it in many forms. I draw, I paint, I write, I create music. I love some of what I create. And I hate some of what I create. I am an artist.
And I'm chronically ill. I circled that one for longer than I care to admit. I'm stubborn and I desperately tried to avoid this reality. I took breaks from work to heal from one health problem or another and immediately threw myself back into the fire where I not only found myself soon sick again, but made it worse by pushing too hard. Rinse. Repeat.
But this is where we are.
This is what's true.
I am an artist with a chronic illness.
Being an artist with a chronic illness means taking breaks from your artwork
I often have to take breaks from creating art.
It pains me every time. But it must be done.
I sit on my couch allowing my body the time and space it needs to heal while my art supplies sit in another room, growing dusty. And every time it happens, I try to will myself into creating. I try to push myself - to force myself.
But forcing things just doesn't work where art is concerned. At least not for me.
The time has to be right. My mindset has to be clear. My art needs to be an expression of emotion, not something forced through the fog.
And so, I take breaks. Sometimes short ones; sometimes lengthy.
It's not just about knowing when to take breaks, though. It's knowing how.
Taking breaks from my artwork as a chronically ill artist means accepting the slow growth process
"Consistency is key."
It's the catchphrase of every famous artist or self-made millionaire trying to sell you a strategy to build your artistic empire.
And while I may not be here to build an empire, I know that selling my art requires getting eyes on my art. And eyes are best found (these days) through social media. Annnndddd... social media values consistency when it comes to posting new things.
A chronic illness is like kryptonite for algorithms. They're all like, "Oh cool, you've been posting a lot of art stuff." The robot-y AI voice continues, "Let me put that in front of people who might like it. Oh snap, you took a break for a little while? Let me not show your new content to anyone until you've been posting consistently for a while. Wait, you can't post consistently? I don't think you're worth sharing with anyone."
And let's be clear - even the people who choose to follow you won't see your content if you're not posting often and consistently. The algorithms are dictating what gets shown from people we follow as well as suggested content.
So, what does that mean as an artist who can't post often because of a chronic illness? It means very slow progress. Very slow growth. It means more and more pieces of artwork sitting on dusty shelves waiting for their forever homes.
And that's OK.
Well, it's not fair but it's OK, because right now we really have no other options. (Pop in the comments with ideas for faster artist growth!!!).
So, my artwork will be shared with the world at whatever pace it is shared with the world.
My ability to maybe make some money from my artwork to further support my addictive creation habit will come when it's time (if it comes at all).
I will want to make art sometimes and simply not be able to.
And it's all OK.
