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In reading the replies here, it's easy to see that everyone has a different story with regard to the trials and tribulations of living the life of an artist.
No one (except Matthew, who admitted to it - and God bless you, Matthew!), has had it easy. There will always be lean times, detractors, and plain old artist's block. None of us are immune to these things. At these times, we feel very alone: I think I should hang it up for good - I'm not getting anywhere. I know I've thought this thought a few times.
I funded my own art training, and I'm still paying for it after graduating 11 years ago. I can't say I regret it, though. It was a fortunate thing that I found Marvin Mattelson. Of course, as encouraging as he was, he had other charges besides me. He couldn't replace my discouraging family, nor the poor environment that was fostered by it.
Despite that, I stuck with it. It has still yet to become a career, though I have made some money over the years. I got married, and my wife became the breadwinner. We had children. Things are now more difficult. That terrible thought (above) comes to mind again. The irony, and perhaps even saving grace is that it may be too late to quit. After illustrating, painting and drawing over the past 11 years, I have no other work history. What else would I do? What else CAN I do? I'm not qualified for anything else.
I still get the odd portrait commission, the once-in-awhile gallery show (with a rare sale), the every-so-often teaching gig. When these things happen, I feel like things might turn the corner. I feel truly happy, even if it is for a fleeting few days of optimism.
Of all the people who graduated in my class, I know of two who are painting. One is myself. The other is a very close friend of mine (why wouldn't he be, actually?) named Sean Beavers. We are both big fans of one another's work. Sean is moderately successful, but is destined for really big things in the near future. He is single, and his "non-art" obligations are fewer. More than that, his parents are huge champions of his career, and have been from the beginning.
I take note of that last sentence particularly. Not to pit it against my past, but rather as a lesson to be applied to the future. As I've said, I have children. Whatever they might do, I know now that their success hinges on my encouragement; not my wallet, not my aloof indifference, but by my sincere willingness to get behind their interests.
My oldest, a 6-year-old girl, knows that her daddy is an artist. Would I be doing her any favors in giving it up to (try) and get a "safe" job with "safe" money? The only thing she'd learn from that is: Don't pursue your dream, rather, sacrifice it in the name of (what we think is) security. Even her childlike mind knows what giving up means. She wouldn't be able to ride a bike if I didn't encourage her to get up off the ground and try again. Through tears from skinned knees, she did it - and the tears gave way to pure joy. I guess daddy needs to get up again, too.
Actually, Marvin told me something that bears quoting here (though I'm sure I'm paraphrasing): "The day you give up, the very next day might be the day of your big break."
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