An Epiphany of Pace

Pssst! When you’re done reading this post, be sure to check out my offer at the bottom!

It seems odd to me, that even at this stage of my life, it still takes me some time to realize things, or to have an epiphany about something that should have been pretty obvious. It could be that I’ve always been more of a leap before you look sort of person. Something that has gotten me into hot water and situations that unfortunately take a lot longer than the leap, to climb out of.


In April, due to covid19 and the situation I found myself in at my place of employment, I had decided that living outweighed the very real threat of the other alternative of staying there could. So feeling pushed to make a choice, I chose life, and never went back. I say it this way as I don’t feel that I quit, I feel I was forced to make a drastic decision. But this isn’t what this post is about. It’s about being aware. Taking the time to think.


“When” I create my art, has always been a tricky subject. Life has ultimately decided for me the when in most instances. For example, as a young mom, although I would have preferred to stay home, reality stomped its often large, dirty boot, on my plans. As they say, the kids had a nasty habit of eating, and wanting to wear clothes. So I took whatever jobs I could get. For my husband’s work, we had to move, a lot. This meant I had to start over every time. From finding a home, to packing, to getting the kids enrolled in new schools, to finding new doctors, this was always on me. Add to that, finding work, and then working. Well when would I cram in art? Art which is the very air I breathe.

Doing It All

Somehow, I always found a way. One of our first apartments, was a two family flat. We were upstairs. Each flat had a bay window in front, and attached next to it was an enclosed porch. It really was a pretty little apartment. On one side of the bay window, one of the windows opened on to the porch. My boys were young then, and leaving paints, and mediums around wasn’t such a good idea. When you stepped out of our apartment door, there were stairs that led down, and a landing that led to our front porch. This porch proved to be the ideal place for a tiny studio for me to work. Most of the time, I would simply open the bay window, and climb over into the porch. Now that I think of it, I’m not exactly sure why I didn’t just go around. Hum. It must have been that once my youngest was napping, or they were settled watching TV, it was easier to just clamber through the window. My little porch “studio” worked well also because I could keep my eye on the boys while I painted.

But that nagging question, of “when”, still dogged me. When we first moved there, I set up the studio, but I had my boys to care for. My husband had a job painting overpass bridges. This job often took him away for weeks at a time, and we still needed more income. I had made a few friends, and with their help, (watching my boys), I was running around going on job interviews. (At this time, non of my friends worked, so they thought I was bonkers.) And with all of this, when would I find time to paint?

Around the same time that I finally found a job, (which came with it’s own craziness), my husband got accepted into the Post Office. However, he had to pass a test where he was required to know every address in the city, and it’s zip code. I kid you not. He was given cards to study. So we would go over them relentlessly every spare moment, for weeks. Thankfully he got the job, but with two boys, and the hope of one day owning our own home, I still needed to work. Again his job required odd hours, He had to start out working nights. This was tough on all of us, but it allowed me to work. Our oldest was in school, and that left the little one. So not being able to find anyone to watch him, (this was back in the day, not many daycares), my husband “watched” him. That’s another story.

When I got home, I cooked and cleaned, cared for and played with the boys. I had to be really organized, but I was young, and had a lot of energy. I set up lights in the studio, and would work on a painting two evenings a week for an hour or so after they went to bed. This is just one example of how I fit in the “when”.

Each time we moved, with each new job, and each new situation, and with each new child, I found a way to fit in the “when”. But I was always rushing. Rushing through getting kids ready for school, through work, rushing through being there for my husband, through family outings, through life, and through working on my art, and honing my craft.

This brings me to my “epiphany”. After I left my job this past April, I found it hard to concentrate on my artwork. I was going at my usual pace, and getting some things done, but considering I now had “all the time in the world”, my kids are grown, I’m basically on my own, and I have set up a nice studio area, it was weird, I was struggling. Not really accomplishing what I thought I should be.

Then it hit me, that the rushing and speed that I kept up for decades, that, that was my pace! It was the force that kept me going, that made it almost a desperate act to create. Not “having the time” is what forced me to make the time.

Let’s not also forget that what is happening in the world right now, the pandemic, and how the daily fight for our very lives politically, socially, and mentally, is affecting all of us.

It took me months to settle enough after leaving the job, to really work on my art and writing. That feeling of being lost and alone, (which is not new, but is now affecting the entire world), caused me to hesitate, and falter. Then of course there is “social” media, which has been and is getting darker by the day.

For what they call creatives, (a fairly new way of describing artists, and craftspeople, which for me the jury’s still out on), anyway, for creatives like myself, it can render those who have historically been the most sensitive among us, mute or frozen. That’s another loaded word, “sensitive”. It can imply that the person is weak. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Being sensitive means aware, means feeling, and caring. Its often what pushes us to create, to make others feel, to envision great things, something, anything. And that, that takes courage.


Now I have this other dilemma, to reinvent my pace. Sometimes lately, I feel like I have too much “when”. I need to balance it more. But the state of things makes that harder now. I hike or walk every day, and that’s good. But I miss seeing my family, easily, or at all. Every move has to be carefully weighed against the possible danger, as I am high risk. I also live in a small town, so there was never a lot going on to begin with. It’s gotten to where, when I stopped at my local library, (I put books on hold and they brought them out to me), it felt like an adventure. Having to have my books brought out to me shouldn’t have been such fun! I rarely see people that I don’t live with, and Zoom, or facetime is difficult for someone with anxiety issues.


Add to all of this the fact that for the first time in my life, I began staying in bed later and later. I was definitely faltering. And it wasn’t that I was actually sleeping more, oh, no, I was checking the social media beast. The beast that will suck up half your day when you fall down one of the cajillion rabbit holes that it opens to you. It left me feeling even worse. I couldn’t save everyone, or change hearts. I felt less productive, and less motivated. I had the “when”, but I was allowing the world to dictate my daily fate.

Fate of the world

About two weeks ago, I decided that enough was enough. I set my alarm to six thirty a.m. , not to wake me, because most days I would wake around then. No, I set my alarm to remind me to get the hell up. Out of the bed. And I have been. Over the last four months, I have actually been painting steadily. But I’ve had a lot hanging over my heart, exacerbated by social media. Which I do have to follow to a certain extent, (this blog, posting my art on IG, on Etsy and FB and trying to find outlets for my art to bring in some income, which has pretty much dried up.) Since I started forcing myself back on track so to speak, I am feeling better, and have more energy. But it is a tentative change, one that I have to be aware of every day.

…but where in the universe to find buyers?…

I know the “when” is entirely up to my whims now. This means no excuses but can also mean no pressure unless I put that on myself, say by entering competitions, or taking on commissions. Either way it will be mostly at my own, new pace. Epiphany!

Thanks for reading my blog. Please visit my gallery, and check out my work on my Etsy site, or visit susanm.l.mooreartist on Instagram. Please “follow” “like and share” here and at these sites as this helps to grow my art life.

Also if you feel inclined, you can “Buy Me A Cuppa Tea” by going to PayPal and donate the price of a cup of tea/coffee to Your encouragement of my art and this blog, means the world to me! For those of you who choose to give a monthly donation of $5.00 or more for the year, please contact me to let me know, and I will SEND a piece of art to you!

Stay safe and well, see you next time!

“I Yam What I Yam”

Nostalgia has never really played a huge part in my daily life, with only the occasional look back, and conversations when the mood strikes. It could be that my life has always been more of a whirlwind than a soft breeze. But now blogging, this new (to me) “medium” that I’ve undertaken, seems to have brought out some of that latent wistfulness. I’ve been thinking of late of different characters that I grew up with. And one that I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for, is the art and fun of Popeye.

In 1937 Crystal City Texas (the “spinach capitol of the world”), erected a statue of Popeye for promoting the spinach eating habits of Americans by 33% ! Heheh

Maybe that’s because my father liked him too, and anything my dad liked, I liked. I think it was more though. For example I found myself some years ago using a photo of a one panel cartoon featuring Olive Oyl to highlight a point. In this panel, she’s effectively kicking Bluto’s butt. (To some he’s Bluto, to others Brutus, you decide.) I’m thinking that Olive, the long suffering foil to Popeye, was more together than her constant, high pitched entreaties to be saved, made her seem. So points to E.C.(Elzie Crisler) Segar, for creating this early heroin. He was ahead of his time. And that was some time ago. He was born in 1894. So “put that in yer pipe and smoke it”!

Mr. Segar actually launched a comic staring “Olive Oyl and Harold Ham Gravy” before “Popeye” and for some weird reason, this makes me happy. But when I was a kid, it was all about the “sailor man”. Olive remained his background foil for many years. As I grew older, I came to appreciate Olive more, as she really is a bad arse, and in a clumsy, innate way, smart. She would remain the ever long suffering foil, always in trouble and in need of saving, yet still with a strong sense of self preservation.

I recently found this little cotton bag, at a dollar store!

Finally in 1929 along comes Popeye to save the day, and I find that in many other ways, Popeye was ahead of the game as well. Cringe worthy characterizations of the day, aside. Olive Oyl is often seen joining the “fight”. Then in 1933, on July 24th, Popeye “finds” the “infink” Swee’ Pea, and decides to “adopt” him, declaring “Whoopee! I always wanted a baby!” Come on! Goes to show how every new generation tends to assume that they’re the first to do something that in fact had been done numerous times before. It could be that some things had just never been given a name, for example, “stay at home, or single dad”

Look what I just found at a local antique store!

Popeye is a single guy with dubious job qualifications. (When does he ever do anything other than walk around confused and mumbling?) So then he “finds a baby” and suddenly he’s a “dad”… hhhuummm. To be fair at some point, he does actually join the navy.

Swee’ Pea!

In 1936 Olive Oyl’s Uncle Ben, sent her a gift from Africa, a magical, and strange creature named, Eugene the Jeep. Again this was in 1936! Not only that but Olive Oyl and Popeye carry on their “relationship” for years, ostensibly raising Swee’ Pea together, although not married.

Over the years, Popeye moves on to his own comic book series, and TV shows. It’s an interesting fact that, accomplished and famous artists through the decades, have honored the character of Popeye, by including him in their own visions of who his character is.

In 1961 Andy Warhol brings us his Pop Art, including a piece called “Saturday’s Popeye”. Also in 1961 the Pop Art Artist, Roy Lichtenstien included his own version of Popeye.

It’s impressive to note how many varied, and creative fields of entertainment have been captivated by this character. Including a magazine house in Tokyo Japan that launched “Popeye” magazine that would be the first fashion periodical for young men in Japan. In 1995 the US Postal Service featured Popeye in “American Comic Classics” a set of stamps that were issued in celebration of the 100th anniversary of the American comic strip. I can imagine that a lot of collectors have these hiding in drawers all over the country.

You can buy Popeye spinach. 😉

In 2009 Popeye appeared in a Google Doodle. Also that year, the artist Jeff Koons made a striking statue of him, in a beautiful mirror polished stainless steel. This statue, (hold onto your phone), sold at auction to Steve Wynn for an astounding 28 million dollars. You read that right.

In 2017, that striking statue that Mr. Koons made, in partnership with Snapchat, was released on the “World Lens” platform, making it available to be activated to view, in public parks around the world. Pretty cool.

Popeye and the other characters from the comic have been featured in things from; charity campaigns, promoting fragrances, men’s care, car adds and clothing lines. This year marks the 90th anniversary of the Popeye franchise and it continues to go strong, having a lasting influence on our lives. Who knows where it will go from here, but I have a feeling it’ll make it to 100.