05. I Almost Didn't Write This

An introduction by way of 2023 in review

Searching for the truth, the studio journal of artist Jocelyn Elizabeth, is an exploration of what it means to be alive.

I almost didn’t write this. I planned to. I wrote a version weeks ago, trying to get ahead. It was daylight savings time, actually, because I recall thinking I had one extra hour to get something else done. The sign of a recovering overachiever. But the year wasn’t over, and now that it is, I feel more tired than anything else - the inspiration to share my real reflections swirling down the drain with all the things I want to leave behind.

But as I shared in an abbreviated post, 2023 in a poem, once I actually started writing, inspired by a prompt in

Beth Kempton

‘s Winter Writing Sanctuary, the words didn’t stop. Where I once felt like I had nothing I wanted to say, or maybe didn’t have the energy to, now I’m at the risk of oversharing. I find that to be true often. I either keep my inner thoughts totally to myself, hiding my emotions, or tell you everything, my heart on my sleeve.

But my goal with this studio journal is to write more, document my creative practice, better get to know you, the community who is interested in my work, and let you get to know me. To do that, I want to show up as my true self and just write instead of worrying about if I have anything of value to say, or what someone will think of it. With that, let’s say goodbye to 2023.

I found out I was being laid off from my corporate career in October, and my last day was just a few days ago, the Friday before New Year’s Eve. I’d been looking forward to bringing both of my feet into one world, instead of straddling two. It’s felt like that for the past few years with my corporate life and creative one fighting for my energy, and especially the last few months as I slowly felt myself disappearing from that part of the world. Even though it feels serendipitous, it is still a transition that comes with challenges and risks that push me out of my comfort zone. It feels like more of a loss of identity than I was expecting, even though it’s always been only part of me.

I spent 15 years in HR, and learned to compartmentalize my life early on, when I had to keep information about layoffs or employee issues confidential from friends. As a result, I’ve kept my corporate life and my personal/creative one almost entirely separate. But that has felt like sharing two mismatched pieces of a puzzle with different parts of my world, so that only a handful of people know the full, “real me”.

The transition has opened up some of the grief I’ve buried over the past few years, that only occasionally comes up for air if I let myself rest for too long. But it’s all still very fresh, and I know it will feel better with time. (And, as I actually posted this on January 2, the first day I didn’t have to rush home to my desk after daycare drop off to get to work, or a meeting, in a very long time, it already feels better. Though, I did actually rush home to my desk, but to work on this because I wanted to. And then I plan to spend the rest of the day doing things that don’t involve a computer).

Time is a funny thing, and I find that so many of the past few years have blended into each other, as I’ve simultaneously felt like nothing has changed, yet everything has. Despite this end of year reflection, things don’t actually stop and start over just because a calendar does.

The beginning of 2023 was an overflow of 2022 - sickness (and it turns out, it is also how 2023 ends as I’ve come down with laryngitis). Between December and January, my husband had Covid; my son had pneumonia and ended up in the ER; our dog, Kemba, had emergency surgery to remove a splenic tumor and was diagnosed with terminal cancer; I had the flu and bronchitis, and we all had strep throat. Being sick triggered some dormant injuries (the year prior, I started experiencing shooting pain down my left arm, and thought I had carpal tunnel, but an EMG showed evidence of a pinched nerve in my neck). For the next three months, I found myself unable to get out of bed without using my hands to lift my head off the pillow.

In March, our other dog, Drake, was diagnosed with a splenic tumor (what are the odds?), his turning out to be benign. In April, Kemba, my “soul puppy”, declined suddenly (you can read more about his story here), and within days, he was gone.

In July, my neck injury flared, and I spent 6 weeks crying myself to sleep, with ice packs on my arm to try and numb the feeling of my tricep in a vice grip. The nerve pain was as bad as the labor pain I’d experienced birthing my son, and it came, without fail, every time I lay down. My MRI confirmed 2 herniated discs in my cervical spine, plus tendonitis in my rotator cuff and bicep. Months of physical therapy and, when needed, medication have helped manage my injuries to a place where I’m now cleared to lift light weights again, and take long walks. It feels like I’m in a body that does not belong to me… a long way from the strength I had two years ago when I was hiking with my son, lifting with my personal trainer, and participating in Peloton Power Zone Challenges. I’m not cleared to run, or use the peloton, or lift heavy. I have to be careful of how I twist during yoga, of how I shrug my shoulders, so that I can avoid nerve damage and neck surgery.

Hiking in 2020

In retrospect, I can see how I could have injured myself, though there wasn’t one specific incident that did it. But, I’d been exercising this way for several years, and this pain didn’t start until shortly after the death of my uncle in February 2022.

On a spiritual and emotional level, it doesn’t seem like a coincidence. I think it has been my body’s way of dealing with the grief that’s been lodged there since 2017, when my 42-year old uncle received a life-saving heart transplant that resulted in a severe global brain injury. It was the start of my “not quite mid-life crisis” (at the age of 30). I started questioning everything - what it means to be alive, what makes us who we are (body, mind, soul, something else?), and how I wanted to live my life.

So it’s impossible for me to reflect on 2023 without also reflecting on 2022, which is impossible without reflecting on the time since 2017, during which I not only experienced this tragedy, but became a mother, and an artist, and started my business, Jocelyn Elizabeth Studio, while working a full-time job and going through everything else that life brings as it goes on. Those are the stories which inspire my art and that you’ll find in future “Searching for the truth” posts.

In summary, despite my best intentions, I came into 2023 with absolutely no plan. So, it would be easy to sit here at the end of the year and feel like I got hardly anything done. But it wouldn’t be true. When I think about the value of this moment in time, I think about the things I accomplished this year that I am proud of, that I am grateful for, and that taught me something.

Of course, there were good things. A trip to Chicago for the wedding of one of my oldest friends. A surprise birthday party weekend. A family vacation to Disney World. Cape Cod. Day trips to the beach and pool. Book club. Resolving my son’s chronic congestion. Weekends filled up as a soccer/baseball/football/gymnastics mom. Concerts and dinners out. Lots of park visits and time outside.

And of course, time for art and creative accomplishments. Some highlights:

• I made art. ~60 pieces between original paintings, conceptual photography, illustrations and surface pattern designs. And I wrote. Poems, essays, journal entries.

  

• My work was published in All She Makes Magazine, Uppercase Magazine, the In Her Space Journal and Humana Obscura.

• I painted a cow for the New England Cow Parade. Belle Beauvigne sat proudly outside the iconic Fairmont Copley Plaza all summer until she was sold with proceeds benefitting Dana Farber and the Jimmy Fund in the fight against cancer.

  

• I was accepted into the Cape Cod Art Center as a juried fine art member and won my first two awards (Best of Abstract in The National exhibit for my painting “Until I Don’t” and Best of Show in the Day and Night exhibit, for my painting “Nauset Tide”.

• I was invited to sell my work through Minted’s Direct From Artist program in my own minted.com store.

• I was accepted into the National Association of Women Artists and have had work displayed via online and in-person exhibitions in Rhode Island and New York.

• I was accepted into the prestigious art residency at Chateau d’Orquevaux, France, where I will spend a few weeks this coming spring. (!!!!!)

• My painting, Limitless, was exhibited in the City of Boston’s Fay Chandler Emerging Artist Exhibition, juried by Juniper Rag.

• My painting, Not the Same, was accepted into the Cambridge Art Association’s BLUE 2023 exhibit (on display until January 3!)

  

• I was a finalist in the Ayara Home wallpaper licensing contest, which, while I didn’t win, was an honor to have been chosen as one of 14 finalists out of 1300+ entries.

  

• I continued investing in my creative education and took online classes with amazing artists and creative entrepreneurs. Since I don’t have a formal art education (I studied business and French), learning from other artists has been enormously helpful to me.

As I look ahead, I know I am just getting started. I don’t know where my career path will take me, but know that I am on my way towards a more creative career and life. In 2024, I am looking forward to:

• Painting more public art - including a mural for the Newburyport Art Association’s We Share One Sky project in the spring/summer. [interested in a mural? let me know via the waiting list on my website!]

• New painting collections! I have so many ideas and am looking forward to dedicated time for my art while in France, my favorite place.

• I’m planning to share more of my art in-person, specifics TBD!

• Licensing work and doing more collaborations with likeminded businesses

• Building relationships with galleries, interior designers, home stagers and art consultants

• Weekly writing here in the studio journal, and monthly newsletters via my website mailing list (I’ve chosen to maintain 2 separate lists, so if you are looking for art freebies, shop discounts or early access to launches, you’ll want to join my mailing list at www.jocelynelizabeth.com. If you only care about my writing, you’ll find it here.)

• Getting an art studio space outside of my home [manifesting this]!

• Writing a book proposal

• Less stress, spending more time with my family and focusing on getting my health back

There are parts of this year that have been wonderful and parts I’d like to leave behind, that have been painful. But where so many others in this world don’t have the same privilege, I’m aware of and living through it all, and I don’t take that for granted.

I hope each of you are able to find some beauty in the transition to a new year. Please feel free to share your reflections in the comments below if you are comfortable <3

xo Jocelyn