Something Old; Something New

The two-week vacation before and after Christmas is my favorite.

The twinkling lights and time with friends and family is something I treasure, but I also enjoy making plans and projections for 2019. I love stewing about goals! Retrospect of 2018 (mistakes) gives me fuel for change, and I get butterflies planning for new adventures.

To anyone that says setting resolutions is a waste of time, I say you haven’t been setting any at all that you truly care about.

It is one of the most powerful things I do each year. Do I check them all off? Almost. And if my goals don’t quite work out, I have learned to be grateful for the pull they provided and let the rest go with grace.

I like to pick a word that is the guiding theme for the year. Last year’s word came easy and fast. It was “light”. Honestly, I don’t know if I’ll ever top that one. Light means “aha” moments, it means saying “no” to things you can’t handle, and it is the sun kissing mountain tops in the morning. I wrote it on my planner every week to remind myself of the feeling I was after. The right choice is the light choice, right? (From Danielle LaPorte).

This year’s word came with more struggle and soul-searching, and then I felt silly when I found it.

Passion.

You guys, I’m a bonafide INTJ. If I’m happy, sad, angry, or anything else you can think of, I’m straight-faced and calm on the surface.

The ice lady.

Passion? Really?

Hang in here with me. Let’s look back at 2018 to see how I got here.

2018 was hard, as each year tends to have its fair share of that as well. Near the end, we moved into our home at Lost Creek Stables, which has been a labor of love for the last 3 years. As I sit in my new office, which brings with it the promise of a new era of work, I think of the nights and sweat Dave has put into every part of this home. I look out at our horses, and a new one sits in the place of our little mare Tig, who’s heart gave out and we had to choose to end her suffering. She was my daughter’s first horse.

Ice woman sobbed in a corner that day.

I had some incredibly hard work lessons, and in the end, I’ve decided some things aren’t worth any amount of money. I also told a television scout “no” who wanted Dave and I to audition for a building show.

Ice woman isn’t good camera material. Sorry, not sorry.

And after many conversations with those in the trenches with me, I fully admitted that my art is lost.

That’s how I landed on the word “passion”.

{The last painting from my studio in 2018}

Art has been with me for a very long time.

I drew stick figures like any elementary-aged kid between the age of 6-8. However, during that time period my older sister gave me a horse encyclopedia for Christmas. I had been horse crazy since birth. An encyclopedia  about horses for a nerd? It didn’t get better than that. For reasons I’ll never know, I decided that I wanted to draw all the horse breeds accurately (note that word).  My art skills improved rapidly with my obsession, and before I knew it I was dubbed a “gifted” artist before I entered middle school.

And so it went for years.

I got an art scholarship to college. I briefly entertained the idea of interior design, but ultimately decided to stick with fine art. I graduated with my bachelor’s degree in oil painting. I was married with our second child on the way, and I thought I could paint while I raised my kids.

But nothing ever sold and the galleries I tried to get into all told me no.

I became frustrated. Slightly bitter. A lot was going on anyway. After our third child, my fine art got pushed aside and I fell in love with interior design. I went back to school, and my art was reborn.

That’s how I saw it anyway.

In 2019, Tawna Allred Interiors will turn 10 years old.

Ice woman is getting choked up.

I built it. Not alone, certainly, but this has been my fourth baby. I did everything wrong in the beginning (want to know how to NOT build a business? Just ask). I even had to change the name of my baby because the first one was so bad, but I’m still here. And I’ve helped people build some pretty damn incredible places.

I’m proud of that.

And with horses working their way back into my life, I have been documenting that journey with photographs, which led to another morph of my art. This fall I spent three days in horse heaven shooting photographs for the eventing championships in Utah.

 

I don’t feel like any of my art forms are replacing the other. Each has its place and has made the other stronger. All are going with me into 2019.

And this is where the word passion finally comes in.

I know what pricing tweaks I need to make for the year, and I’ve already updated accordingly. I’ll be attending the Kitchen and Bath design show in Vegas to get inspired. And I’ve made the choice to say no to jobs that suck the life out of me and YES to the ones that make my heart beat a little faster. Because you know what? Life is short and I have new options to earn an income.

Passion for my horse photography is easy. I am obsessed, and my daughter has pulled me into a world that has made me love them even more. This part of my art is young and will take care of itself. To see more, follow the Star Valley Pony Club Instagram account (@svponyclub).

That brings me to my lost fine art.

When I was setting up my goals for 2019, at first I thought, “I want to try to do my first show.” After some conversations with trusted colleagues, I realized that I am not ready.

I don’t have art that is me in any way.

Remember that word I told you to note?

Accurate.

That has been my entire life’s experience with fine art. Art has simply been a skill to conquer, and I’ve done everything I’ve been told to do. Has it made me who I am? Definitely. I can draw and I can paint anything I want; in whatever style I want.

{Second place winner from my senior year in college}

But I don’t know what I love to draw and paint.

2019 is the year I start to find out what Tawna’s art looks like, and I’m going to try to separate it from the need to be adored.

Scary.

Each week I’ll write, “What do you want to paint?” at the top of my planner to remind me to look for the thing that brings delight, and maybe one day, passion. My hope is to kick a painting out (roughly one a month) that touches some part of me, and I’ll be sharing them with a story.

Here’s to a year of discovery. Thanks for coming along.