I was totally gutted when I realised that I could not learn to speak German fast enough to be able to teach art in Switzerland. The glare of an exciting adventure in a foreign country faded into a pitch-dark cloud of “What now?”
What do I do if I cannot be a teacher? Who will I be?
The predicament faced by trailing spouses is having to redesign themselves in each new country.
The “trailing spouse” trails after the main breadwinner from country to country for his or her work.
On a good day, the trailing spouse feels like a nomad but on other days like a drag.
That day, I was a drag. The door to my dream job slammed shut. So I had to start knocking on other doors. My husband could see his strong wife was struggling to let the phoenix rise from the ashes. Little did I know that my future literally rested in those ashes and that I would have to create a whole new life for myself with the pieces from the ashes. No, not the charcoal in your braai that smells like chops and wors, but the ashes that artists use to enchant others.
Wim has been bugging me for years to create art again. But if one teaches other people how to create art, you have little time left to do so yourself. And art as a hobby is fun, but it does not put food on the table. Making a living from art is not easy, and that’s why I chose the easier way out and became an art teacher. But teaching was no longer an option, so I had nothing to lose. You can’t fall any lower if you are already a drag; you can only go up.
So I dusted myself and scraped together my few rappen to buy the largest piece of paper I could find. And I started drawing as if my life depended on it – a gigantic buffalo!
He was beautiful and hung proudly above our bench for months. With each visit, the buffalo was the topic of the conversation, and after a while, his story became well-known. Artists, organisations and galleries started phoning me out of the blue. I was so startled and intimidated that I almost became a drag again and wanted to hide under a rock. But then I realised: The other door was starting to open, even if it was just a crack.
Oh my goodness, I literally drew as if my life depended on it. Charcoal was swirling through the whole house. Before long, I had at least thirty pieces to choose from for an exhibition. Now I’m on Facebook and Instagram and have a homepage.
It is now a few years later and I can’t believe what has risen from the ashes. I have more than thirty exhibitions behind me, more than one hundred and fifty sales, and numerous workshops, guest speaker events and press appearances.
It surely wasn’t easy. And don’t think that I didn’t go through the darkness of self-doubt or worry about cash flow. There were far more drag days than fancy nomad days. But I’m writing this piece today to tell you that when a door closes – no, when it is slammed shut in your face – another door will open. And no, you’ re not going to pass easily through that door – you will probably have to push it open or even cut it down with an axe the way I did. But don’t give up! I know how you feel. Remember, you are not alone. You can recreate yourself and have loads of fun wherever you are. Find YOUR buffalo.
