This month, I submitted my first proposal as an artist. The process of applying was more of an emotional roller coaster than I'd anticipated. There was the euphoric high thinking about the font of my hand cut stencil wrapping around the piece. There was the humbling experience of writing an artist bio and realizing I've only really created art without permission. No wonder the process of filling in the template of the application felt stilted. There was simultaneous relief of handing over the submission envelope (thank gods that is finally DONE!) coupled with the terrifying feeling of walking around naked in the world. Something about handing over my biggest ideas, along with my name attached to a group of people I actually know ended up feeling ridiculously vulnerable. The morning after I submitted the envelope, I had an EVEN BETTER IDEA for the project. Damn. So, then the amazing experience of regret - having not thought the new idea up sooner. Last week the thin envelope with the rejection letter inside arrived in the mail. "We had so many qualified applicants this year" the short form letter began."Well, it looks like that leaves space for for you to do something else!" my daughter noted upon hearing the news. Ah, yes. I've told her this many times.Within that same week, I also received an email follow up from another art submission, "We would absolutely love to have your art in our show. Please send the dimensions of your pieces to us as soon as possible so we can allocate the space on the wall." This was followed by detailed instructions for dropping off and hanging my art the day of the event. Being accepted brought a momentary thrill of being validated as an artist followed by this vast blank question mark of space: WHAT. AM. I. GOING. TO. MAKE. I mean, really, I've rarely planned these things out. Dimensions? I find my wood on the side of the road. More like, the wood and dimensions find me....if you know what I mean. :) I'm a little perplexed about hanging my outside art on inside walls and creating pieces worthy of hanging in a gallery, if only for a night. But it's happening. The ideas are coming to me in the waking up moments and distractions of regular life. I'm figuring out how I'll measure and plan for an inside wall instead of a chain link fence.I'm pretty excited. I'm very nervous. One of my sons is my street artist and spray paint buddy. We were visiting the First Amendment Gallery and store and learned about an open-call art contest for designs on skate boards. This last week, we both entered pieces into the 1amSF skate deck contest. As we signed up for the contest and received our skate decks, we both thought there were hundreds of artists participating - simultaneously thinking we could just blend in with a large crowd. It turns out 17 artists signed up. Oh, that walking around naked feeling came back again. I actually bought a sketchbook at Walgrens (I normally sketch on whatever is in recycling) to bring some level of professionalism to this skate deck design process. And then went for it with total LoveYou2.org abandon. Skate deck painted with signs of love and the top (which would be covered by grip tape when actually used as a skateboard) with a love note. I have a feeling there will be one mom board amongst the spray painted genius that is 1amSF. Alas, this is my art. I paint on things that were meant for other purposes. I write love notes. Maybe it's time to ride that board and feel that love note under my own feet.Go places. See the world. Talk to strangers. make mistakes. Try again. Leave places better than you found them. say please. stay curious. Find friends in unusual places. Watch the world with your artist eye. remember nothing is ordinary. FALL IN LOVE OFTEN. repeat as necessary. Call mama! sometimes, try going slow. Feel the wind. Catch that wave. *Uncertainty is actually possibility wearing her thick winter overcoat. Invite her in. -> Help her with her coat. * Wonder. Expect Great Things. Bow deeply to the awe. You are brave FEARLESS. enjoy the ride. <3

rejected. accepted. on making art.