Growing up, my parents had always dreamed about when we finally settled after moving around so much, that we would get a dog. And they had always wanted a Rhodesian Ridgeback.
During art school, we lost our mutt, and my parents got their first Ridgeback. Within a few months, they got a second Ridgeback. Suddenly my life at home got way more interesting and entertaining with Creek and Wilson. And all I wanted to do was spend time with them and videotape their shenanigans. There were maybe a couple of times that I used that footage for video projects at school, and I was called out on it and teased incessantly. I think one classmate said something about how “it’s clear that Kaleena loves her dogs” but that I wasn’t being a serious artist with those projects.
The thing about being a video major was that there was a lot of technical learning involved—how to edit, how to frame shots, how to record sound, how to color correct in-camera and in post-production, and so on. Sometimes, my conceptual thinking took a backseat to simply learning that technical aspect of video-making. Did it mean that some of my projects were “not serious”? Absolutely. Did I care?
…sometimes.
I remember telling my foundations professor once that I wasn’t going to make it as an artist because I’m not an asshole. Funny enough, he told me that was okay, but that I still had to find some sort of balance between being an arrogant artist and being a good person.
And then I completely burned out my senior year. I should have gone on to grad school, but I just couldn’t. I shouldn’t have burned my bridges with the connections I made when it came to working in the local film scene. But I did. There were a lot of factors and a lot of reasons why, but it all came down to my own self-destruction.
I moved back home, and took some weird detours to figure out what I want, what I can do. And now I’m an art teacher.
Sam came along as a little puppy when I wasn’t sure if I could take care of another dog. He’s stubborn, sweet, mouthy, and cuddly. He always has to be close. And now that I’m pushing myself to make more art, he’s there. He reminds me to take breaks. He forces me to go outside. Sometimes he knocks my arm when I’m trying to draw. And sometimes he inspires a project. Not to mention he stars in the one and only TikTok I’ve made.
Life after art school didn’t really go the way I dreamed it would. And I was right, I didn’t make it as an artist in the traditional sense. Maybe it’s because I didn’t take things seriously in art school. Maybe it’s because I chose time with my dogs over locking myself in a studio or pretending to be someone I’m not. Maybe now I’m finally okay with that.
I’m still an artist. I can still make art and strive to be a good person and love my dog. That’s the dream I’d rather have anyway.
