I Wish the World Was Kinder to Artists
It’s hard out here for creative people, but I still love that my daughter is an artist
Last week I drove my daughter to a job fair at a local resort that caters to the ultra rich. At 20, Emily has been driving for two years, but the place is perched on the top of a mountain.
The private road from the gatehouse to the main hotel snakes steeply uphill for over two miles. She was nervous about the drive and the interview, so I volunteered to be her chauffer. I figured I’d wait for her (and remain unseen) in one of the guest parking lots while she went in for her interview.
Emily wants to work in the hotel’s greenhouse and gardens. She’s an incredibly talented artist. Painting was her first passion, but she loves beauty in all its many forms. In the past year, she’s developed an obsession with plants and gardening. She planted a pollinator garden at the edge of our yard and has been aquiring an impressive collection of indoor plants.
She currently works in a greenhouse that’s part of an independent supermarket and garden center. They don’t grow or propagate plants. It’s a retail job with a green thumb vibe. She wants to do more than care for and sell plants. Nurturing seedlings, tending to gardens, sculpting her surroundings — all of these tasks…
