On this, the eve of our annual all-female-artist blowout, there are creatives across the Metroplex priming canvases, tuning strings and loading their cameras. Costumes are being meticulously groomed, poems and songs rehearsed, and bodies stretched and strengthened in preparation for the sensory banquet that will be girlShow 2009. Each and every woman has honed her craft and earned her place in this year’s event.
Tonight’s entry, however, is not for them. Tonight’s entry is for you women who are reading this who don’t self-identify as artists. Yes, you may have a deep appreciation for the performers you’re coming to see this weekend, but when someone asks you whether you too are an artist, your reply will include an insidious four-letter word: just.
Though we’re slowly unlearning the habit, many of us — even those with numerous degrees, stunning intellectual prowess or noteworthy accomplishments — tend to play down our strengths… and especially in the presence of others whose talents we admire, our speech can be utterly rife with the self-abasing “just” — as in, “Oh, I can’t paint or anything; I’m just an accountant,” or “I’m just a stay-at-home mom.”
Tonight I’m delighted to inform you that, of all the women I have met in my life, I have never met one who was “just” anything… and I can say with certainty that you are no exception. You are a work of art, and you too are an artist.
I feel that there is nothing more truly artistic than to love people. –Vincent Van Gogh, a guy who cut off his ear for the love of a woman and also painted some stuff
You may spend your waking hours under the unforgiving glare of fluorescent lights, but consider that every smile you offer your coworkers is a glimpse of a beauty that transcends the drudgery of their tasks, and paints their day in a slightly warmer hue.
It is not that I feel the study of great art should be put aside, but simply that I feel it may be helpful to consider some of the possibilities all of us have of really living artistically. –Edith Schaeffer, author
I’m a disaster with a paintbrush, and behind the lens of a camera I’m a hack documentarian at best. Am I any less an artist? Hardly! My artwork can bring both laughter and tears to just about anyone who gets to experience it. My latest masterpiece was forty-one weeks in the making and took thirty-three hours of blood, sweat and tears to produce. (As I type this she’s sitting in my lap, finishing her bedtime bottle.) My work may not hang in a gallery, but it’s art I display with pride.
Less than twenty-four hours from now, the year’s largest gathering of female artists in Dallas will begin. I hope you’ll come, not only to see and hear the offerings of some incredibly talented performers, but to finally throw off the shackles of the unjust “just” and tell (or discover!) your own answer to the question, “What is my art?”
girlPower.

Mama Nye
Co-Producer
girlShow 2009