by Betsy Murphy.
I went to Mass Art for a summer jewelry class in the 1980s, having only the interest.
I just had a wonderful time, alone in my own world (being in a body is really outside my comfort zone) and I soldered, used a rolling mill, sawed etc…
The teacher, who’d been quiet during these hot sweaty, lovely days finally turned to me and said, “if you brought these (some bracelets) down to Newbury St. (a posh area of Boston where ALL the art galleries are) you’d sell these right away.”
I almost cried and ran away.
While in undergrad school, I was fortunate enough to study with the the man who put all the Monet waterlillies together and traveled around the world with them (he’s considered to be the foremost authority on Monet – Paul Tucker) and with another man, Richard Yarde.
Richard’s work is everywhere and I believe it was in the movie Sneakers.
He said to me, “Bets, if you want I’ll get you into some galleries on Newbury St.”
I gasped, almost cried and ran away.
Yet, if I bring my stuff to local art shows, they don’t get it and I’m turned down – regularly.
I can’t take the hurt, I’ve had a lifetime of hurt so I just make stuff and wear it.
My work is always outside the box in one way or another and everyone wants you in theirs.
I can’t compromise, I just can’t do it. (Now I am crying so I have to run away.)
Here are three different stages of my comfort zone:
– When I am out of my comfort zone, weary and afraid (fear is an underlying theme with being out of my comfort zone).
– In my impish zone, which along with really weird humor, gets me through the discomfort zone (that’s putting it mildly).
– In my comfort zone.