Dr. Carla Johnson
Oil
My entire childhood was filled with art and creativity; they were my escape and my passion. It was assumed that as an adult I would take these abilities and run with them, but I knew that the real world was not going to be so forgiving. If I pursued a degree in fine arts, could I make a living? If I used my passion to make a living, would the passion crack under the weight of financial pressures and loss of artistic freedom? I knew that it would and it was too important to me to keep this part of me mine. So I pursued my other passion: animals.
So after 5 years of undergraduate studies with a thesis, 4 years of vet school, and a year of indentured servitude called an internship, I was a practicing ER Veterinarian. And the adulting continued. Although I tried, there is hardly any room in the study and practice of Veterinary Medicine for art. There is no window of time where looking at your watch isn’t critical, and stress is not looming. There is no day where sleep doesn’t take priority over creativity, or at least not enough days.
It is difficult to paint with oils in a tiny house with naughty cats and rambunctious dogs, and no ventilation. I tried. But the hardest part was turning off my left brain and letting my right brain relax enough to create. So sputters and failures. I resorted to pet portraits during overnight shifts with ballpoint pens and pencils on scratch paper. Then suddenly I was 50; where had all the time gone? And then there was COVID. So that was it. I made some changes, I started working less, we got a vacation home with a potential studio space, and I started painting again.
So here I am, 4 years in, living a double life in two locations: one for work (my left brain) and one for art (my right brain). It has been an enormous relief, and a ton of work. My style is not set. My skills are not mastered. My technique is all over the place. I go wherever the day takes me. I take lessons. I do workshops. Many wonderful people have helped me; are still helping me. And this is what I was meant to do.
I hope you enjoy my journey and my art. I do.
Because this is my safe space, my heart.
This is me.
So after 5 years of undergraduate studies with a thesis, 4 years of vet school, and a year of indentured servitude called an internship, I was a practicing ER Veterinarian. And the adulting continued. Although I tried, there is hardly any room in the study and practice of Veterinary Medicine for art. There is no window of time where looking at your watch isn’t critical, and stress is not looming. There is no day where sleep doesn’t take priority over creativity, or at least not enough days.
It is difficult to paint with oils in a tiny house with naughty cats and rambunctious dogs, and no ventilation. I tried. But the hardest part was turning off my left brain and letting my right brain relax enough to create. So sputters and failures. I resorted to pet portraits during overnight shifts with ballpoint pens and pencils on scratch paper. Then suddenly I was 50; where had all the time gone? And then there was COVID. So that was it. I made some changes, I started working less, we got a vacation home with a potential studio space, and I started painting again.
So here I am, 4 years in, living a double life in two locations: one for work (my left brain) and one for art (my right brain). It has been an enormous relief, and a ton of work. My style is not set. My skills are not mastered. My technique is all over the place. I go wherever the day takes me. I take lessons. I do workshops. Many wonderful people have helped me; are still helping me. And this is what I was meant to do.
I hope you enjoy my journey and my art. I do.
Because this is my safe space, my heart.
This is me.
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