I have many hats I wear, each of which could be at times adopted to be all-encompassing of who I really am.

Some of you might know I work in the legal industry. That is even hard for me to write on my own blog, dedicated to my craft as an artist. It’s almost like my art would be devalued to recognize that I work in other fields.

But then, I met this one elderly woman who pointed out how silly I was.

A counter-factual that blew my mind

As part of the Toronto Bruce Trail Club, I’m also a hike leader. When one of my fellow hike leaders announced to 40+ participants that I was not only a new hike leader but also an artist, I would have rather jumped into a bush and blended into oblivion.

I was already trying to look enough like a hike leader (nice backpack, legit hiking boots, sure-fire navigational skills) and didn’t need another way to call me into question.

I felt like I’m not supposed to be doing what I am doing, like I was an illegitimate child in every single profession.

Then, they asked questions.

What medium did I use? How long had I been doing it? What do I paint? Did I know about XYZ watercolour society?

Slowly, as we trotted through green golf hills and small parks, I felt more comfortable to talk about my art. I divulged how uncomfortable I was to take on this label as “an artist”.

One elderly lady said plainly and kindly that it was possible to be many things: “You can be a mother, a daughter, an artist, a friend, a hike leader, and a lawyer.”

It was so simple. Why had I been making all of these titles mutually exclusive?

The tumults of uncommitted art

The underlying assumption is that if you’re more than one label, then you’re worse at one or both of those professions. It takes time to be good at one of these professions, so naturally, splitting up the hours would mean that expertise would be less developed in one of those areas.

It spooks me to this day when I am asked if I do my art full time. I am resigned to answer, honestly, no. But then I reassure myself that most artists don’t do art full time.

“You can be a mother, a daughter, an artist, a friend, a hike leader, a lawyer.”

Someone might judge a part-time artist for not being “fully-committed”. Just like how on Dragon’s Den, the show where successful entrepreneurs judge nascent entrepreneurs live on reality TV, they measure their candidates by whether they’ve mortgaged their house, don’t do anything other than their business, and quit their day-jobs.

But hey, those people are investing their money into high risk investments that likely will bust in a few years. Maybe that’s a good measuring stick for them. Is it the same for artists?

Measuring artist worthiness

This all plays into who is bucketed to be worthy of what they are doing and what they are not. It’s basic “othering”.

It’s stuck in a world where one is only truly “good” if they suffer, or only those who are worthy must meet some arbitrary threshold.

In the end, it’s stifling.

Ultimately, no one thinks that art is the surefire way to get to riches. We create for the creation’s need to be born into the world.

My mind would be a lot freer to quit trying to fit into buckets that don’t really work.

I’m not quite a sum of all these labels and professions and need to just be me. I’ll make art for my own reason, for my own purpose, and my own expression.

Truths, like that expressed by that wise elderly hiker, can be so simple. It just takes time for it to feel true to me.