Art Ave Sept/Oct 2009

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Being an Artist: Family or Career?

A Personal Story By Lalita Hamill, AFCA, BA

Six years ago, at age 31, I was faced with a key life decision: whether or not to become a full time professional artist. The circumstances surrounding this decision were traumatic; in September, 2003, my husband, daughter and I were in a car accident which left my husband with severe injuries. Because of his brain injury, Patrick could neither work nor drive, and he was in too much pain to complete simple daily activities. Thus, I suddenly became the sole income earner and caregiver of two dependents.

I thought about my grandfather as a young man starting his family, unable to make enough money as an artist and forced to sideline his passion until he retired. In contrast, my biological father left when I was a baby to pursue a vagrant, frugal lifestyle, with the words “The Wandering Artist” etched on the side of the old school bus he called home. While my grandfather chose his family, my biological father chose his passion. Each man was left with a hole in his heart.

After the accident, I needed to provide for my own family financially, and the logical option was to return to my position as aquatics manager of a large recreational complex, placing one year old Samera in full time daycare and being unable to take care of Patrick. I was not keen on any part of this option. To put my family's needs first, I required highly flexible employment close to home. I didn't see how I could possibly begin a career as a professional artist without losing our house.

I extensively researched my options, discussed these with Patrick, weighed our priorities, and agonized over the “hows.” I couldn't figure out how to have a career as an artist and felt overwhelmed. I also believed that I was not enough of a risk-taker to leap into being an artist; passion would not be enough to sustain my professional art career. What if the doctors were right and Patrick would never recover? What if I made an attempt at being a professional artist and failed, and then couldn't find work in my previous field?

Having finally realized that I wanted to be an artist, I felt desperate, and the idea of having to wait until I retired like my grandfather was too much to bear. So Patrick and I did something that is very difficult for us. We asked for help.

By this point, we had been living in a townhouse complex called WindSong CoHousing (www.windsong.bc.ca) for two years. We followed a neighbour's advice and asked WindSongers if they would attend a creative planning session to help us decide which major life path to take.

The facilitators led us through a series of processes, which began with us telling our stories to date. Patrick was green with nausea but participated. Within two hours, a large wall had been covered with sticky notes of ideas under key headings such as “income options”, “strengths”, and “things to sell.” I began to see that the “hows” were falling into place. I could apply for a local Self Employment Program. If I were accepted, the grant would cover the cost of our mortgage and strata fees, and I could spend a year learning how to run my own business as an artist. Samera would continue in a small daycare for three days per week. It could work.

I suddenly felt a lump in my throat and realized I had been sidetracking myself with the “hows.” Instantly, the real issue seeped out of my bones and spread through every fibre of my being. I felt I did not deserve for my life work out. My biggest, deepest and most debilitating assumption all along was that I did not deserve to have both my family and my art.

I suppressed my tears for the remainder of the session and released them later at home, feeling a tremendous weight lift off my shoulders. Identifying this issue was a gift, the one thing I needed in order to move forward.

With a gut feeling that this would all work out, I began what would be the most challenging and intense six years of my life thus far. They were also the most rewarding.

Once I had shown that my art business was viable, I was accepted into the self-employment program and was immersed in spreadsheets, business planning, bookkeeping, networking, researching, volunteering and marketing. I did anything art- related, some paid, some not. I took on work that pushed my artistic limits and discovered that my clients were especially receptive to my commissioned portraits, teaching, and architectural renderings.

In our relationship, Patrick and I rode the rickety roller coaster called emotional turmoil, each of us in our own coaster car. Though we travelled the same track, often it would split in two and one of us would plunge in frustration, pain fear, and hopelessness, while the other ticked slowly up, hanging on and preparing for the next nosedive. To say this was a tough six years is a gross understatement.

Then Patrick won a significant financial settlement that put us back on our feet, making us able to afford alternative therapies. Within six months, he was off morphine and making steady improvements in his health. He was able to play with Samera, help around the house, volunteer politically, and even work part time. I had to turn down teaching jobs for lack of time. Things were looking up.

We decided to continue with our original plan of expanding our family, and in February 2007, I gave birth to our daughter Annie. At this time I also achieved my AFCA status.

At present, Patrick is now self employed full time in a career he loves. I just had our third daughter, Ava, and while on unpaid maternity leave, I paint, write, volunteer, and will teach again this fall.

Basically, I'm hooked. I feel that I'm five years into a 50 year art career. I may have started relatively late, and I have a lot to learn, but I'm on the right path. And I am able to do so with my whole heart, and my heart whole.


	Hamill Studios \| home I Like It \| Art Ave Sept/Oct 2009 \| Art Ave Nov-Dec 2009 \| Art Avenue Critiques \| Langley Times \| Langley Advance 2006 \| Langley Advance June 26 2009 Art Ave Sept/Oct 2009 Being an Artist: Family or Career? A Personal Story By Lalita Hamill, AFCA, BA Six years ago, at age 31, I was faced with a key life decision: whether or not to become a full time professional artist. The circumstances surrounding this decision were traumatic; in September, 2003, my husband, daughter and I were in a car accident which left my husband with severe injuries. Because of his brain injury, Patrick could neither work nor drive, and he was in too much pain to complete simple daily activities. Thus, I suddenly became the sole income earner and caregiver of two dependents. I thought about my grandfather as a young man starting his family, unable to make enough money as an artist and forced to sideline his passion until he retired. In contrast, my biological father left when I was a baby to pursue a vagrant, frugal lifestyle, with the words “The Wandering Artist” etched on the side of the old school bus he called home. While my grandfather chose his family, my biological father chose his passion. Each man was left with a hole in his heart. After the accident, I needed to provide for my own family financially, and the logical option was to return to my position as aquatics manager of a large recreational complex, placing one year old Samera in full time daycare and being unable to take care of Patrick. I was not keen on any part of this option. To put my family's needs first, I required highly flexible employment close to home. I didn't see how I could possibly begin a career as a professional artist without losing our house. I extensively researched my options, discussed these with Patrick, weighed our priorities, and agonized over the “hows.” I couldn't figure out how to have a career as an artist and felt overwhelmed. I also believed that I was not enough of a risk-taker to leap into being an artist; passion would not be enough to sustain my professional art career. What if the doctors were right and Patrick would never recover? What if I made an attempt at being a professional artist and failed, and then couldn't find work in my previous field? Having finally realized that I wanted to be an artist, I felt desperate, and the idea of having to wait until I retired like my grandfather was too much to bear. So Patrick and I did something that is very difficult for us. We asked for help. By this point, we had been living in a townhouse complex called WindSong CoHousing (www.windsong.bc.ca) for two years. We followed a neighbour's advice and asked WindSongers if they would attend a creative planning session to help us decide which major life path to take. The facilitators led us through a series of processes, which began with us telling our stories to date. Patrick was green with nausea but participated. Within two hours, a large wall had been covered with sticky notes of ideas under key headings such as “income options”, “strengths”, and “things to sell.” I began to see that the “hows” were falling into place. I could apply for a local Self Employment Program. If I were accepted, the grant would cover the cost of our mortgage and strata fees, and I could spend a year learning how to run my own business as an artist. Samera would continue in a small daycare for three days per week. It could work. I suddenly felt a lump in my throat and realized I had been sidetracking myself with the “hows.” Instantly, the real issue seeped out of my bones and spread through every fibre of my being. I felt I did not deserve for my life work out. My biggest, deepest and most debilitating assumption all along was that I did not deserve to have both my family and my art. I suppressed my tears for the remainder of the session and released them later at home, feeling a tremendous weight lift off my shoulders. Identifying this issue was a gift, the one thing I needed in order to move forward. With a gut feeling that this would all work out, I began what would be the most challenging and intense six years of my life thus far. They were also the most rewarding. Once I had shown that my art business was viable, I was accepted into the self-employment program and was immersed in spreadsheets, business planning, bookkeeping, networking, researching, volunteering and marketing. I did anything art- related, some paid, some not. I took on work that pushed my artistic limits and discovered that my clients were especially receptive to my commissioned portraits, teaching, and architectural renderings. In our relationship, Patrick and I rode the rickety roller coaster called emotional turmoil, each of us in our own coaster car. Though we travelled the same track, often it would split in two and one of us would plunge in frustration, pain fear, and hopelessness, while the other ticked slowly up, hanging on and preparing for the next nosedive. To say this was a tough six years is a gross understatement. Then Patrick won a significant financial settlement that put us back on our feet, making us able to afford alternative therapies. Within six months, he was off morphine and making steady improvements in his health. He was able to play with Samera, help around the house, volunteer politically, and even work part time. I had to turn down teaching jobs for lack of time. Things were looking up. We decided to continue with our original plan of expanding our family, and in February 2007, I gave birth to our daughter Annie. At this time I also achieved my AFCA status. At present, Patrick is now self employed full time in a career he loves. I just had our third daughter, Ava, and while on unpaid maternity leave, I paint, write, volunteer, and will teach again this fall. Basically, I'm hooked. I feel that I'm five years into a 50 year art career. I may have started relatively late, and I have a lot to learn, but I'm on the right path. And I am able to do so with my whole heart, and my heart whole.