Ballerina Moves

Lately, I've been thinking about elephants and dancers gracefully tumbling through the air.

I've been thinking about getting everything I wanted, and it being nothing close to what I wanted.

I've been thinking about resilience and pivoting and the state of the world and the country.

How we're all being sold to, and we're all having to sell, everyone has a side hustle, everyone wants a 6-figure...a 7-figure... a gazillion-figure income, but we also want to live in a little house in the country where no one knows us except for the goats and a barn cat.

And we never have to read the news and have our hearts broken every morning over coffee, while feeling helpless and wondering what we can do?

What are we supposed to do?

And would you like to buy these earrings?

I've been thinking about elephants and ballerinas and naked vulnerability and Frank.

Did I tell you about Frank? Frank is the mask I wear when I have to be in the world, when I don't want to be in the world.

Frank looks like an elephant.

So I am an elephant.

Once upon a time, I painted these stories.

Maybe you had to be there.

It makes sense in my heart.

When I got cancer, I thought it was the best and worst thing that had ever happened to me. Not in that order, and certainly not as clear cut as that, but at the end of it all, that thought stood out:

"This is the best worst thing that has ever happened."

And I took this best worst thing, and I ran with it. I did everything that every guru told me to do so that I could really achieve this lifelong dream of being a (drum roll, please):

Full-Time Professional Working Artist!

Because nothing is promised, and what if the cancer comes back? What regrets will I have if I don't give this absolutely everything I have? So I did the thing. And I was very happy. It was exhilarating to see something so beautiful be born of literal garbage. It felt poetic! And I felt really proud.

And then I felt tired.

Really, really tired.

Because that full-time professional working artist thing meant that all of that art that always brought me so much joy was becoming formulaic and demanding and restrictive and...it felt ...off.

And I didn't love it anymore.

I kind of started to resent it.

Everything I made had to have a price on it. I had to ask myself constantly, "What is the monetary value of this piece of art, and what will people think of it? Will they buy it? At this price?"

And ...I wasn't really making art anymore. I was making products. They were still things I loved and was proud of, but the experimenting and allowing myself to fail and creating solely for the sheer joy of it were not things I could afford to do anymore. Because if I couldn't sell it, everything would crumble.

I started to get sad. Stressed out. Tired.

And I started dreaming of painting elephants.

But I couldn't paint elephants, because a bracelet is so much easier to sell than a weird falling naked elephant named Frank, especially when you try to explain it, and people just look at you like maybe you've had too much to drink.

I know...

I know that I'm probably not making a lot of sense. If you found me because of the garbage and the jewelry, you probably weren't here for my blogging years.

I used to write my entire life online. Every weird thought, every painting in my head, all of the things that made no sense on the page but would often be absolutely gorgeous when I got them on the canvas. And then I just sort of...stopped. Mostly because I was happy, and I didn't need to write as much.

And now....I'm not unhappy. But things are different. What I thought I wanted ended up being a cage. And it's a very nice cage, I love what it's made out of, it's just...I don't want this to be my whole life.

I'd like a bit more freedom.

I miss the elephants.

I want to make jewelry that someone will love, but I also want to be ok with making things that people will hate. I don't want to be afraid of that. Because if I want to be happy, my weird little heart needs to be able to make weird little things that not everyone is going to love.

SO.

what does that mean for loveheylola?

I'm not sure.

I actually don't think too much will change here on the website. (I mean, I know everything is very different here now, but I'm going to put it back together, I promise.)

I got a new job that I love.

Art doesn't pay my personal bills anymore, it just pays the studio rent.

I can afford to fail, and oh my god, do I love that for me!

I went back to school, because this new job that I love is something that I want to be the very best I can be at.

I'm going to paint the elephants, because I love them, and they have so much that they've been wanting to say.

I'm still going to sell jewelry, only it's going to be much more affordable, because I'm no longer pursuing wholesale accounts.

And I'll probably write more in this space, because I miss it, and it feels better than social media right now.

Soooo....that's what's new.

Those are my ballerina moves.

Thanks for reading.

I love you.

love,

Jessica