well it all begins like this, the sloppy first draft (normally I would edit and clean it up first chat GPT saves time :
turn the below text into a 1000 word or less blog post
Title carving a life I wish to life when living with mental health and fatigue
I am rethinking my relationship with my art. You have probably heard the term, I have begun to take my art seriously. This usually simply means giving the art more time, spending more time with it, strengthening the relationship we have with it.
however I began to actually take it seriously, to the point it felt it was hurting me.
I also found because of this taking seriously, I paint a lot and it had to be on canvas or wooden panel in order to be a more viable product. Then speaking of products, I began to paint to have something to show, rather than having something to show because I had painted something.
I am surrounded by paintings, of all sizes, and it has become like a fungus that invades my space. I am however re thinking my home studio, its radical but the studio will be moving into the bedroom to allow the door to be shut, and the bedroom into the living room with the carpet hopefully changed, and a partition, my orange curtains making a return, the bedroom curtains replaced with the studio ones.
What sparked this is I hope to get a dog, right now I am in housing association and so I am waiting for them to confirm, if im declined, while heart breaking this will fuel me to work hard at the next venture.
I have no idea if my health will allow but I wish to slowly transition into a dog walking business and see if this allows the art to thrive, to sell when it sells not forcing it. I mean ive done ok with the art sells ive had, they just have a lil period in-between
I just really dont want to be stuck indoors painting all the time, I want to paint outside, draw outside my doodles without it needing to be sellanble (all art is to a certain degree) and I wish to paint when I feel the urge,
being outside walking 16 or so miles away with dogs, adding to my CrossFit fitness, and being out in nature, having time to reflect and be present, sounds more it.
I will work in sketchbooks more and have those filed somehow….even those could reach full capacity quickly, maybe I switch to digital but I love the feel of paint.
Im rethinking how I approach art and have it continue to fuel me rather than drain and feel like a curse,
I wish for all my art to be scene, and perhaps of I can somehow afford a venue to show it, its less of a risk if im earning well
All a dream but its good to dream, its good to pivot and rethink how we connect to life.
I am constantly on social media, I wanted this blog to be every week but even with the help of chat GPT for my dyslexia and have it pick out the essence of my writing which takes an hour or 3 to write, it still takes time to give to it if I want it to feel like my words which is still important to me, I could have just asked chat GPT to write it based on the topic. The difference would be huge!
So I will continue to paint, I have a lot of markets this month, but after that I will continue to paint but take the pressure off
The problem is this is a habit and it will take a while to relax around my art once again and not feel the sting of social media , not feel the need to upload and the doubt once I have.
I want to enjoy all my art again and doodle if I feel, not have people “have you thought about lessons” I can still enjoy a doodle without it being hyper real or even accomplished, I can make ugly naive art and the professional in quote marks art too.
Im just going to create.
I just have so much in this small space, I will shut it away in what is now the bedroom, and perhaps I can turn this into a viewable space too
How much can you re organise a space into working through? My next stepping stone is a two bed with garden near woods so I can have a dog and dog walk, time will tell if my health allows this (ADHD mental health, I get fatigue and feel unwell if over do it)
Carving my life out will take time but I like the art im building with hope on the horizon even f my friends are married and buying houses.
then this is what chat GPT gave me back, can you see the changes I made? I changed American spellings to UK ones, and added a few words, took a few out to be the meaning I wanted (see previous post)
Chat GPT response :
Title: Carving a Life I Wish to Live: Balancing Mental Health, Art, and a Dog-Walking Dream
In the quest to find purpose and meaning in life, we often find ourselves entangled in the pursuit of our passions. For many, art becomes not just a hobby but a lifeline, a way to express the inexpressible and navigate the tumultuous waters of mental health. But what happens when this lifeline starts to feel like a noose, when passion turns into pressure, and creativity becomes a curse? This is a journey I've been on, and I want to share how I'm rethinking my relationship with my art, my home, and my dreams.
The cliché "I've begun to take my art seriously" is something we've all heard or said at some point in our creative journeys. It signifies a commitment to nurturing our talents, dedicating more time to our craft, and strengthening the bond we share with our art. But what happens when taking it seriously begins to hurt us rather than heal us?
I found myself trapped in this cycle. I painted relentlessly, often feeling compelled to use canvas or wooden panels, believing that my art had to be a viable product. It became more about having something to show rather than creating because I had something to express. My living space morphed into an art gallery, every wall adorned with paintings of varying sizes. It was as if a creative fungus had invaded my sanctuary.
That's when I realized it was time for a radical change. My studio would move from its cluttered corner to the bedroom, allowing me to shut the door and separate my workspace from my living space. The bedroom, in turn, would make its way into the living room, complete with a carpet makeover and a partition, with my beloved orange curtains making a triumphant return. This shift was sparked by a dream - the dream of getting a dog.
Currently in a housing association, I'm waiting for confirmation on whether I can bring a furry friend into my life. The anticipation is both exciting and nerve-wracking. If I'm declined, it will only fuel my determination to embark on my next venture - a dog-walking business. This transition, I hope, will allow my art to breathe, to be sold organically, without the pressure of constantly creating.
I'm craving a life that doesn't confine me indoors, perpetually painting. I want to be outside, under the open sky, sketching and doodling without the obligation of making every stroke sellable (although, in some sense, all art is). I long to paint when the urge strikes, while being outdoors, walking for miles with dogs, enhancing my CrossFit fitness, and immersing myself in the beauty of nature.
Sketchbooks will become my companions once more, and I'll find a way to archive them efficiently. Even then, they might fill up quickly. Maybe I'll consider digital art, but there's something magical about the tactile feel of paint on canvas that I can't let go of.
My approach to art is undergoing a transformation. I want it to nourish me instead of draining me, to inspire rather than burden me. I yearn for my art to be seen by the world, and perhaps, if circumstances allow, I can afford a venue to showcase it. It's a dream, but dreams have a way of turning into reality when we dare to chase them.
While I'm constantly connected through social media, maintaining this blog has proven to be a time-consuming endeavor, even with the assistance of chat GPT for my dyslexia. It's essential for me that my words reflect my essence, and asking an AI to write it based on the topic would fundamentally change its essence. So, I'll continue to paint. I have a series of markets lined up this month, and after that, I'll keep creating but with a different perspective.
Breaking the habit of relentless creation will take time. I'll have to ease the pressure, let go of the constant need to upload, and silence the self-doubt that lingers after each post. I want to rediscover the joy of creating art for the sake of creation itself, not because someone suggests I should offer lessons or make it "professional."
My space is small, overflowing with art. I'll tuck it away in what used to be the bedroom, and perhaps, I can even turn that into a viewable space someday. The next step in this journey is finding a two-bedroom home near the woods with a garden, where I can welcome a dog into my life. Time will tell if my health, impacted by ADHD and fatigue, will allow me to pursue this dream.
Carving out the life I desire is a process that takes time, but I'm building it with hope on the horizon. Even as my friends settle into married life and buy houses, I'm forging my own unique path, redefining my relationship with art, and looking forward to the possibility of sharing my life with a faithful canine companion.
and that is how I use chat GPT, so you see the meaning is there even if the way it is told is not, if it doesn't have the meaning I want, ill tweak and edit it, then feed it back into Chat GPT, there is always human input
and here is what I would have got if I put just the title...so quite a long blog this explaining my process....
so if I were to write : Write a 1000 blog post on the topic of taking art too seriously and finding a job that doesn't feel like a job and allows art to just happens, rather than be a product, write it in first person . this is what I would get with less effort and time spent on writing t
Title: Finding the Sweet Spot: Letting Art Happen Without Taking It Too Seriously
As I sit down to write about my journey of finding a job that doesn't feel like a job, I can't help but reflect on the path that led me here. It's a path filled with passion, frustration, and ultimately, a profound realization - that sometimes, taking art too seriously can hinder its natural flow and creativity.
I've always been passionate about art. From a young age, I would lose myself in the world of colors, shapes, and imagination. The idea of creating something beautiful from a blank canvas was exhilarating. As I grew older, this passion only intensified, and I decided to pursue a career in the arts.
I enrolled in art school, hoping it would be the perfect place to hone my skills and turn my passion into a profession. And it was, to an extent. I learned valuable techniques, gained exposure to various art forms, and met like-minded individuals who shared my enthusiasm. However, there was one thing that began to gnaw at me - the pressure to make art that was marketable.
In art school, the emphasis on creating "sellable" art was hard to ignore. Professors and fellow students would often discuss the commercial viability of our work, which materials were trending, and which styles were more likely to sell. It felt like the soul of art was being sucked out of it, replaced by a relentless pursuit of profit. I began to feel suffocated by these expectations, and the joy I once found in creating began to wither.
After graduating, I tried to pursue a traditional art career. I entered galleries, participated in exhibitions, and even sold some of my work. But something was missing. It felt like a job - one that demanded constant output, adherence to trends, and a constant battle to stand out in a crowded market. The dream of making art had turned into a stressful race for success.
It was during this period of disillusionment that I stumbled upon a different way of approaching art. I started to meet people who were living what I can only describe as a "dream job" - one where art just happened, effortlessly, without the burden of commercialization. These individuals weren't bound by the need to sell or conform; they created because they loved it, not because they had to.
One such person was a friend who worked as an art therapist. She used art as a tool for healing, helping individuals express their emotions and find solace through creativity. Her work was deeply personal, and she never worried about whether it would sell or not. Art, for her, was a means of connection and healing, not a product.
Another acquaintance was a mural artist who painted vibrant, larger-than-life artworks on the walls of public spaces. He wasn't concerned about selling his pieces; his satisfaction came from seeing the joy and wonder in the eyes of passersby as they admired his work. His art was a gift to the community, not a commodity.
These encounters were eye-opening for me. They showed me that there are ways to integrate art into one's life without sacrificing its essence on the altar of commercial success. It was a revelation that changed my perspective on my own art and my career aspirations.
I decided to explore new avenues that allowed me to let art happen naturally. I began teaching art to children at a local community center, where the focus was on nurturing their creativity and self-expression rather than on producing sellable pieces. I also started volunteering my skills to paint murals in public spaces, just like the artist I had met earlier.
Slowly but surely, I began to feel the joy of creating return. I no longer worried about whether my work would sell or not. Instead, I reveled in the process, in the act of creation itself. I discovered that when I let go of the pressure to be commercially successful, my art became more authentic and meaningful.
Eventually, I found a job that truly didn't feel like a job. I became an art therapist, just like my friend who had inspired me. Working with individuals who used art as a means of healing and self-discovery was incredibly fulfilling. It was a job that allowed art to flow naturally, free from the constraints of market forces.
Looking back on my journey, I realize that the key to finding a job that doesn't feel like a job is to let go of the idea that art must always be a product. It's about rediscovering the joy of creation, embracing art as a means of personal expression and connection, and finding fulfillment in the process itself.
So, if you find yourself caught in the trap of taking art too seriously and feeling the weight of commercial expectations, consider exploring alternative paths. Seek out opportunities that allow you to let art happen without the pressure of selling it. You may discover, as I did, that the true essence of art lies not in its market value but in its ability to touch hearts, inspire minds, and bring joy to both the creator and those who experience it.
you've got to admit it is certainly pretty convincing
however none of it is factual, apart from a few lucky guesses, so I like to spend the two hours writing for it to help me with and to properly proof read in order for it to be accurate and of the tone I intended.
back to normal personal blog posts text time, but thats how chat GPY is involved and if I have the time and drive to write, I will write it myself and add a disclaimer....all the non chat GPT in this blog are of my own accord.
- When did social media stop being social? December 13, 2023
- Embracing a New Chapter: My Artistic Journey, A Change of Heart, and the Call of the Outside World” October 1, 2023
- How I use Chat GPT to write my blogs September 17, 2023
- Taking art too seriously September 10, 2023
- The Intersection of Art and AI: Embracing the Future August 27, 2023
