I was talking last night to one of my best friends who is going through a divorce. She was weepy. Mostly she was sad that her ex was not really doing so great. She is doing much better on her own. I have known her since before they got married over twenty years ago, and I've known her ex for even longer.
We had to laugh about how it takes us so long to make changes. We are the kind that give people multiple chances, and then more chances. We are the kind that want to stay married. We want to make people happy. We love our families almost more than anything in the world.
She, like me, is married to an artist. When you are an artist yourself and you marry another artist, whether you have kids or not but you live in the industrialized world (or maybe even anywhere anytime), you have the problem of Who is going to sacrifice? You start out like the young couple who got married on Saturday and you think, It will all work out. Our love will overcome everything. I will sacrifice whatever it takes to be together.
When you meet your mate, the one who has the exact genetic code in his/her pheromones, the code you unconsciously smell that is similar enough to recognize your future and different enough to diversify your gene pool, your hormones flood your brain and urge you to "Go. Fuck. Make babies." (See The Female Brain for more on that.)
If you, like my friend and me, are an artist yourself and marry one, you have a problem around sacrifice that normal people may not face as much, but maybe everyone faces. When you are a painter or a writer, you may be okay sacrificing for 20 years, but there comes a point when you must bust out. Or, it feels, you will die. The little voice starts screaming, "My turn!"
And if you are the other one in the partnership, the one that was able to continue making art throughout the marriage (in a hetero couple, often the Man), you might get caught off guard when your spouse asserts, "My turn!"
I understand that it could be a shock. It's like, "Hey, we had a deal here. I told you when we met that I was an artist. I never said I'd sacrifice my art for you or our family. I never said I would carry the lion's share of the weight around here. Everything was working so well, why is the deal changing now?"
What's scary to a marriage is when so much time has passed that one partner is no longer capable of sacrificing enough because he/she no longer has "marketable skills" or thinks that is the case.
Let's just say the Woman tries to shed her role as caretaker and bread winner so she can finally write her novel or paint her paintings. She says, "Can you please take the wheel for the next twenty years?" Maybe the Man is making his art. Let's say he even sells a little bit of art and has shows but not enough to pay the mortgage. Let's say he feels he just can't, or doesn't want to take the wheel.
What do you do?
You can sell the house. You can downsize. You can go to therapy.
We had to laugh about how it takes us so long to make changes. We are the kind that give people multiple chances, and then more chances. We are the kind that want to stay married. We want to make people happy. We love our families almost more than anything in the world.
She, like me, is married to an artist. When you are an artist yourself and you marry another artist, whether you have kids or not but you live in the industrialized world (or maybe even anywhere anytime), you have the problem of Who is going to sacrifice? You start out like the young couple who got married on Saturday and you think, It will all work out. Our love will overcome everything. I will sacrifice whatever it takes to be together.
When you meet your mate, the one who has the exact genetic code in his/her pheromones, the code you unconsciously smell that is similar enough to recognize your future and different enough to diversify your gene pool, your hormones flood your brain and urge you to "Go. Fuck. Make babies." (See The Female Brain for more on that.)
If you, like my friend and me, are an artist yourself and marry one, you have a problem around sacrifice that normal people may not face as much, but maybe everyone faces. When you are a painter or a writer, you may be okay sacrificing for 20 years, but there comes a point when you must bust out. Or, it feels, you will die. The little voice starts screaming, "My turn!"
And if you are the other one in the partnership, the one that was able to continue making art throughout the marriage (in a hetero couple, often the Man), you might get caught off guard when your spouse asserts, "My turn!"
I understand that it could be a shock. It's like, "Hey, we had a deal here. I told you when we met that I was an artist. I never said I'd sacrifice my art for you or our family. I never said I would carry the lion's share of the weight around here. Everything was working so well, why is the deal changing now?"
What's scary to a marriage is when so much time has passed that one partner is no longer capable of sacrificing enough because he/she no longer has "marketable skills" or thinks that is the case.
Let's just say the Woman tries to shed her role as caretaker and bread winner so she can finally write her novel or paint her paintings. She says, "Can you please take the wheel for the next twenty years?" Maybe the Man is making his art. Let's say he even sells a little bit of art and has shows but not enough to pay the mortgage. Let's say he feels he just can't, or doesn't want to take the wheel.
What do you do?
You can sell the house. You can downsize. You can go to therapy.
What if your spouse is too self indulgent to do the work (or accept the work) of making the spilt even though they know it's for the best? I could mean a lot of things by self indulgent. Maybe it's because one person is trying to take care of everyone else and doesn't want the feelings of guilt, or someone likes the feeling of being cared for and doesn't want to take care for themselves? Life's short. If you choose to be in a couch potato marriage that has expectations of your partner than expect that your health will suffer. Wow, how that would feel to never have any expectations but then not much of a partnership.
ReplyDeleteThank goodness the scientific part of me would never marry an artist. It seems that art lends to inherent narcissism.
ReplyDeletesometimes history calls those partners muses, sometimes suckers. downsizing is ok, and we could all use a little therapy once in our life, but how do you negotiate a fair 20-year-trade?
ReplyDeletebtw, i'm not much of a blog reader, but I'm enjoying your writing, please continue.
ReplyDeleteInteresting comments that reflect strong feelings about marriage.
ReplyDeleteLooking at all the lovers leading up to the One that one marries and/or has kids with, does marrying an artist seem like a choice? For me the template was cast, and it was not really a choice. In the same way one does not necessarily choose to be an artist one's self. It's who you are. It's how you see the world. How you operate. And who you are affects who you can mate with.
I could say that maybe if I'd had enough therapy early enough to be fully conscious I might not have chosen to marry an artist. But I had therapy early on.
Choosing a mate is largely timing, and largely, I'm convinced, unconscious and biologically driven. Maybe it's just me.
Negotiating 20 year deals? That's a good subject, too.
Being the wife of an artist can be entertaining, fun, exciting, and sometimes for myself satisfying.
ReplyDeleteI wouldn't call myself an artist, but definitely creative. I like doing anything, especially beside my husband. My favorite thing to say to him when we have nothing to do is "let's get weird".
When we first started dating he told me that I was going to have to share the bed with not just him, but with also his art. And never stricked me as a true statement til he started to have shows. I never thought I could be so jealous.
While being the supportive wife of a mind that never stops about creating, I am feeling anger towards his art.
I wish I had seen this post before! Yes! I would say for 25 years in my marriage I was number 3 or 4 on my husband's list of priorities: First was surfing, then art. I vied for 3rd or 4th position with the kids. That has all changed, Anonymous. Now I'm number 1, and with it comes its own challenges. Like pressure to be his number 1. Art is now number 2. I guess it's better now. Just remember, nothing is permanent. You could end up number 1 and not like it...Or it could be your dream come true...
ReplyDelete