Personalized insight
The Artist Who Could See
Over the years of leading an art studio and gallery, I worked with many of my art heroes.
One of my favorites was Native American artist Jaune Quick-To-See Smith. Her work touched me deeply, and her ideas were perceptive and wise.
It was customary for me to take visiting artists to dinner, so I was quick to invite Jaune because I was starstruck and thrilled to meet her.
That evening, the conversation was utterly fascinating. Her unique insights into American culture, her understanding of history, her experiences in the art world — I was riveted. I didn’t want it to end.
The next night, I invited her to my home to continue our exchange.
At that time, I was at the top of my game. I was an international art dealer who’d placed work in nearly every significant collection in the United States. I traveled every month and had closets full of little black dresses for all the big openings I attended. I hobnobbed with celebrated artists, curators, and notable collectors.
People used to joke that they wanted to kill me so they could have my life.
But Jaune Quick-To-See Smith was quick to see that this glamorous life wasn’t a true reflection of my creative soul.
As I prepared our meal, she slowly circled my house, peering at the extensive art collection that covered my walls. Out of all the pieces displayed, she pointed out a photograph that I myself had taken.
“Who took this picture?” she demanded to know.
“I did.”
She looked at me through narrowed eyes.
As we sat down to eat, she fixed her direct gaze upon me from across the table. I was quick to see that she was serious.
“Your home reveals a lot,” she began. “There’s more to Crista than the job you now have.”
She twirled a forkful of pasta thoughtfully and asked: “What is it that you really, really want to do?”
It was the question I had been living my whole life trying not to answer.
This was the vision I kept my eyes closed to. Because privately, I was scared that a part of me was starting to die.
I’d graduated from art school years before, but somehow, life had swallowed me up and pointed me in a different direction.
I was terrified to admit that I secretly yearned to be an artist again, to engage my own creativity, and to step away from the world’s version of success.
“You must, Crista,” she said. “Anyone can see that.”
It all spilled out: my secret desire to start a new life as a writer and photographer. To stop working with art as a commodity and to find a new way to work with artists; to become a new Crista. In France.
But it was just a silly dream. Impossible! It felt outrageous. Embarrassing. Too big for someone like me.
“People don’t just move to France,” I told her.
“But I can see it,” said Jaune Quick-To-See Smith.
And when I dared to look into those wise eyes, I could almost see it too.
Here’s what I know now that I didn’t know then:
The question wasn’t “Can I do this?” The question was “What happens if I don’t?”
Sometimes we need someone outside ourselves to see what we’re too afraid to look at. Someone to ask the question we’re avoiding. Someone to reflect back the truth we already know in our hearts.
Jaune Quick-To-See Smith gave me permission to want what I wanted… And I live in France now. That impossible wish I was afraid to say out loud? It became my life.
What’s the question you’re afraid to ask yourself, Crista?
We are never as far from our true path as we fear. Sometimes it only takes one courageous question to turn our face toward it again.
In The Working Artist Academy, we will ask it together. We’ll look at what’s really stopping you—and what’s actually possible when you stop telling yourself “people don’t just do that.”
Because they do. And you can too.
[Learn more about the Academy here]
