Gretchen uses language that I’d expect from an ironworker, though judiciously. Her hair is shaved from one of her temples. She has tatoos up her arm. It’s a style outside what I’m used to that somehow works well with her personality.

I like her.

Admittedly, I don’t know much about her, just the impression she made in this one face to face visit and her blog. She’s an agreeable soul.

Her  unpretentious air and sensible thinking makes it easy to conclude this. (though I suppose that could be challenged by the “oh yeah, well what about…?” types. Let them find fault on their own time. Here and now I’m disinviting them from this discussion. Leave, all of you.)

The rest of us, consider playing this song in the background as you read. Do it in honor of my now nearly   vanquished fear of the taxman after visiting Gretchen’s studio. It has been the theme song of my fears about the government.

I went to her feeling like the guy in the cartoon below, fretting about the taxes and government regulation and their potential to interfere. (The image was originally sketched at a restaurant in 1975, depicting one “Doctor Jay Sternum, reflecting on his medical career,” ) I  worry like this cartoon character does, just in advance.

Me yesterday.

My object in going to see her was also to help cut through some mysteries related to professional art as a business. She’s been somewhere I’ve never been. She’s still there. She’s swimming about in that world where artists feed. It’s her living.

She’s a studio artist specializing in acrylic painting who doesn’t like the weave patterning of canvas so she has her dad build her panels of plywood and sticks that look convincingly like a canvas. Looks to me like quarter inch sheets of smooth board that’s nicely finished.

“It’s cheaper,” she told me when I asked why she doesn’t use masonite. It’s certainly lighter. I may have to give it a try.

She decided at age 17 to become a gallery artist. We had a conversation about how that’s working out for her.

When others came to the studio, she unfailingly encouraged them to check out the other open studio in the area. She was professional in her interactions with the visitors without making any attempt to sell them her wares.

After visiting her I realized that burnout was avoidable so I  was happy for my little alphabet that has been in development these past 43 years. And for my penchant to learn Russian language despite my lazy inability to retain. I was also glad for my cars and the work and learning and satisfaction they bring. And for the gardening and handyman skills I’ve developed.

I realized that there is a way to maximise those as enhancements to my career and not distractions. All these things provide unique outlets for creativity and are magnets for accomplishment with different flavors of satisfaction.

I was also more appreciative of my inclinations to assist people, such as building the wheelchair ramp for mom and pitching in when people I know need a hand. It helps get me outside of my self. A balanced life is a happier life. I suspect these other pursuits will save me from burnout no matter how intense the ascent to cruising altitude is.

Don’t read from this that she’s doing anything wrong or not doing good things. The conversation steered me here and I realized that like Gretchen, I want to give back – to make the world better beyond  and additional to beautifying it with my creations.

Were she 17 again and able to retain the wisdom she has earned, she’d train to become a veteranarian. There can be a downside to art as a career.

Here is how she put it, and to make it more real you can visualize her, a beautiful woman speaking from the very place where she turns thoughts into images you can see and touch, “It’s not money that brings joy to my painting. It’s simply the distraction of having to worry about a very unpredictable source of income that can impede on the joys of painting”.

I  visited her in her studio. I wanted to pinch myself. Nothing she weighed in on was theory, it was the voice of experience.

By the time we said our goodbyes I’d made changes in my own expectations and strategies. My fear of the taxman has abated. And now I’ve incorporated anti-burnout mechanisms into my planned routine whereas before I spoke with her, I thought it best to throw everything into this. Now I realize that “Everything” means keeping alive  the other parts of life that bring sparkle to this existance: the people, the machines, the yard and garden,  family, the inventions, etc..

She took the edge off the ongoing transition from secured hireling to self-employed and now I’m all the more confident that this is a leap I can survive.

Me today. I feel like, “this can work!”