The Zen of Writing, Painting, and other Pursuits

I was born, I think, with a crayon in hand. I drew on walls when there was no paper to put crayon to.

I must have driven my poor mother mad. I drew, of all things, dinosaurs. Give me anything to draw with, and I was hell on walls! My sister must have forgiven me, at some later date, when I used her lipstick to make designs on our bedroom walls (my sister is 10 years my senior). She still loves me. Sends me a Halloween/Christmas card every year.

In high school, and college, I majored in art. Just to get that point straight. 

However, I did take creative writing classes, in both high school and junior college. It was then that I found that not only did I love to flash color on a canvas, but I found that writing filled another void all together different, and yet very zen related to my right brain activities.

My biggest complaint about my art teachers in college told me that my art looked like, well, someone took a picture of the subject.

Is that so bad?

Even when it does look like something, it's still the artists' own style and their version of what they see down on the paper or canvas.

(These are all watercolors, btw)

Here I was, having had people all my life calling me "artist" and that I was very good at it. That I should make money at it.

Oh, did that fill me with hope.

I get to college and all they wanted me to do was make silly designs, using rulers, tape, and whatnot. Nothing freehand. And in art history I found that modern art was just someone trying to outdo another person with what I loving refer to as crap. Throwing paint on canvas can be freeing, but I don't know. A rose by any other name...

Oh, sure, got my degree. Tried to continue the whole thing in a larger college, but faltered. Probably because I'd fallen in love with my husband. I think he saved me from becoming a librarian.

Anyway, as you can see, at this later stage of my life, my watercolors have given me pride and it was fun taking last summer off to explore my art. I had never tried watercolors ever, and once I got into it, I couldn't stop.

I've told someone that wanted to buy my paintings that if I could draw it, I could paint it.

Two of the paintings here have been sold to someone.

My day job (Laughingly I refer to), is driving a city bus. Gag me. I've been doing it for 19 years and I want to quit soooooo badly. But bills must be paid. Yes. Here you see a starving artist. Whether I've sold paintings or my books. It's a bit disheartening, if my whole point is to make money.

But It's not. A writer HAS to write. It's in them and they can't help themselves. I've tried to "quit" writing, but then comes along an idea, a character whose voice won't shut up and...

Well, I have to write. I've been writing since 1972--in the 80's I tried very hard to get an agent. Well, that didn't go very well. No one wanted more vampire stories. One agent said vampires were so over. NOT. Buffy the Vampire Slayer was still on TV, and we were just years away from the shinny vampires to make their big splash.

I self published my first novel, "Spell of the Black Unicorn". It's gone through a few different covers and hopefully this one sticks, as I love it.

As with anything I do, whether it's gardening, crocheting, art, or writing, I'll put myself into it 100%.

What one does with their talent is up to them. I'd like to make money at my pursuits, but so many others are doing the same thing as I am. They work so hard at getting noticed on the Facebook groups where we all vie for attention with our books. I've found mixed results, and eventually I give up trying. I just need to do my thing and, well, is that so bad?

All of my books can be found here:

Lorelei Bell's Books