an artists tools

My pallet tells many stories. The stories of all the places I’ve been and all the places I’ve survived. It has seen me rise and it has seen me fall. Some days I think my pallet knows me better than I know myself. It has been a faithful companion all these years. My pallet is stained all the colours of my obsessions, emotions, and tribulations. It has seen every face I’ve ever worn and watched as they all crumbled to dust. 

Oh the stories my pallet could tell you, of the time I stood crying in my prom dress, and of the time I first saw the face of God. It could tell you of the depth of my rage and it could tell you how tender my heart remains. My pallet, should it one day sprout a mouth and speak, would give all my secrets away for the steep steep price of listening. 

My easel has born the brunt of my brushstrokes, but my pallet has felt the ghost of the punches I never thew. My pallet has held the weight of all my tears, and it has withstood the tests of time. 

If you have ever wondered why artists can be quite testy about our art supplies and space, this is why. They’re the tools of our trade, but it’s not quite that simple. 

I can remember a few years ago now, we had a very minor amount of flooding in our basement but it just so happened to be in the area where my art studio is set up. So my family and I had to move just about everything in my studio about 10 feet to the right, and it was so distressing. It was as if someone walked into my heart and started reorganizing and un-organizing everything that they could touch. It was so incredibly stressful and I can remember that I snapped at probably all 5 members of my family throughout that maybe hour long process. And I think even to this day I would opt for doing it all myself rather than let anyone else touch my stuff again. 

It’s not just because art supplies can costly, though that is part of it for me, it’s more so because my studio and the tools in it are the only tools I have to communicate my hearts visions and my dreams dreams. An artists space is an awful lot like a physical manifestation of their heart and soul. It is often the dwelling place of their hearts process and letting someone in, letting someone see or touch their process is scarier than bungee jumping. 

The arts are not for the faint of heart, though we are seen as overly emotional, sensitive, and dramatic, truly we are courageous. And we carry the hearts of lions and wield the strength of  bears. I am of the firm and biased belief that it will be the artists that save us all. It will be the artists who continue to tell the truth now that it’s gone out of fashion.