Finding your drive

In 2011, my father’s illness was gradually progressing and being far away I did not completely realize how fast it was advancing. My sister who lived in his street in Australia told me that she thought he would not make it beyond a couple of months and that I should come soon if I wanted to see him one last time. I had no money; my job was just paying my bills and nothing more. So I came up with a plan to make money with my art, my crafts with as little investment as possible except my sweat and tears.

First, I took out my sewing machine and found a permanent spot for it on a table in between the window and the toilet. I scoured the secondhand shops for clothes with interesting fabrics and a friend of mine gave me some Haute Couture fabrics and every day after work I would sew handbags adding details such as embroidery, pearls, vintage lace or feathers. I asked a friend of mine who was organizing a Christmas bazaar for a spot, and she gave me one at a discount. I used a branch my husband had trimmed off a tree and created a handbag tree to display my wares in an eye-catching manner. The prices were outrageous, but I was convinced of their quality and needed the money.  

Second, I created some colorful posters and sold prints for 6 times the price it cost me to print them.

Finally, I used my connections to get an exhibition gallery space for free. It was for one night only, but I decided to make the most of it. I frantically painted every weekend and invited friends who were dancers and musicians to create a show around my chosen theme. My friend Joelle flew over to help me sell so I could focus on chatting with everyone. It was a great success. I sold 5 paintings.

It all added up and I managed to buy a return ticket to Australia. I got to spend a few weeks with my father when he shared how grateful he was for his illness as it forced him to slow down and prepare for the next life.  

I was also curious about his limitless drive to act; to succeed, to learn. He would always say “the greatest motivation is hunger” and I always thought he meant it literally referring to his childhood in the Ethiopian mountains.  After this experience, I realized that hungering for something is indeed a great drive.  My friend Joelle told me that her greatest drive for painting and sculpting was frustration but once her life was comfortable, she could not find the same urgency to paint. How can we find this within our soul without being with our backs against a wall? Can we be driven by love and joy instead of this growling feeling in our bellies?

By the way my father passed away in 2012, a couple of months after my visit. My sister’s advice was spot on.