How to Be An Artist In A Relationship
By: Christina Hope
Tags: Communication, Relationships, Writing, Art, Creativity

Accepting the term ‘artist’ feels like a huge step in the life of anyone who aims to be creative. Whatever labels we attach to ourselves, this one feels particularly loaded. Who gets to call themselves an ‘artist’? What does this really mean?

These are big questions, and ones it takes time to answer. But when we do accept the term for what we are doing — be it going professional as a photographer, or dabbling in watercolours, or trying our hand at a novel for the first time ever — being an ‘artistic’ sort has its share of problems. Even if we’re comfortable with the term.

These problems really emerge when we think about our relationship between that part of ourselves we want to nourish (our ‘inner artist’, let’s say) and the rest of the world — the people we hold nearest. Our family, friends and lovers, in particular. Cohabitation and romance with an artist is not famously a walk in the park.

In the incomparable and timeless classic, The Artist’s Way, Julia Cameron says:

An artist requires the upkeep of creative solitude. An artist requires the healing of time alone. Without this period of recharging, our artist becomes depleted.

I think she’s spot on.

It’s a stereotype that certain artistic types throw away all semblance of human relationships in order to pursue their craft. But the reality is that most of us probably still do want love and closeness — after all, why else make art?

Having a happy emotional life supports an artistic practice. Relationships are key to this, and yet, they can sometimes come into conflict with our pursuits.

So, what does this demand for solitude, for time to recharge and the need to feed ourselves, mean for our relationships? What should we do, as artists, to keep our relationships strong?

Make sure you share values

If you don’t agree that making art of any kind is a valuable pursuit, you’re very likely to run into disappointments. The fact is that some people just don’t get it! That’s okay. But you may not want to cohabitate with this person, who fundamentally disagrees with your passion.

So, knowing that they don’t dismiss your pursuits entirely is a fairly important starting point.

Once you know this about each other, you also have to agree on the values you uphold together. Again, the basics: if they are pursuing very different paths, know that that is going to be okay for both of you. Personally, I love that my partner is in a very different field to me — I am always happy to hear about his day, and how different it was to mine. And he is the same. What’s shared here is respect.

From respect for each other’s values, we are able to agree on other things. More pragmatic things. Which do inevitably come up when one partner takes a less-than-traditional route…

Talk openly about the practical

I’m a writer. That means I have a certain discipline required as part of my process — I sit at my desk, undisturbed, at roughly the same time every day to do my work. This isn’t an accident!

As I don’t have the luxury of a private space in which only I have access and work, I had to arrange this. This was essential, and it was important I had the discussion. This relates to a lot of practical elements, but in particular:

Space

As above, you do have to agree if there’s a special place you do your work in the home. We can get caught up in our craft, to the point where we might forget that the space is meant to be shared (in theory!).

Of course, you might have the ability to really define spaces for your work as your own — if so, great! Just make sure you both know what this is, and what it looks like, to avoid arguments, bitterness and disappointment down the line — from either them or you.

Time

I work best in the mornings. This means I expect to get an hour or two without interruptions. This is complicated if you’re a carer, or a parent. You must somehow define what this time can reasonably be, in which you are able to do that necessary solitary work. Discussing this openly allows the practical to simple be checked off, on terms that everyone acknowledges. Of course this can be tricky, particularly if your partner doesn’t agree (and here’s where my first point gets important!).

Finding a compromise can be difficult, and you ultimately have to weigh the pros and cons. But know what you need as a minimum, and ensure you are clear about this — if you’re keen on remaining in a team, you will find a way to set that boundary in a way that works for both of you.

Money

So here’s something we famously hate to discuss in most cultures. But in a partnership, it’s unavoidable.

As a writer, I accept that my income is going to be limited by various factors. Your art will likely do the same. Is your partner going to be okay with this? Will you both be okay with this? How much do you each need to do to make sure it works? Do you need to work at other things to keep up your half of the bill payments? All these details must be worked through, because the money conversation leaks into the lifestyle conversation — where you live, how you live, etc.

You need to know what the reasonable limits are on your spending habits and desires. You shouldn’t be falling into debt you can’t repay, or compromising your partner’s credit rating, as a result of decisions on this front. And ask yourself: will this income/lifestyle work for us in a year? In 5 years? In 10? Changes may have to be made.

In my case, I work freelance. It would be impossible to simply sit at my desk all day, every day, and write into the sunset. My partner and I acknowledge that we could be wealthier. In our case, we’re okay with what we have right now — we agree about our lifestyle. In the future, we might move somewhere cheaper, or make different decisions. But taking the awkward out of this practical component goes a long way to helping make the relationship last.

Set your boundaries

In extension to the above, you will have to come to some decisions about your boundaries more broadly. This includes a few things, like —

When do you say yes or no to a social commitment?

Who does what household chores?

What about other household management tasks?

How often do you invite people over?

Who else needs to be in the home?

etc

These are tricky boundaries to define, particularly, I think, for women in heterosexual relationships (on the point about housework and management!). There has to be a balance and agreement regarding these sorts of questions. It’s all about setting yourself a boundary that you can feel comfortable with, and that still respects your partner and their desires/lifestyle/etc. After all, chances are you share a social life and other aspects of your lives that require both of you to participate.

If you do stay home to work on your art, it can be easy to become the main chore-doer as well, for instance. But this may not be strictly practical, or fair — after all, if you’re doing everything about the house all day, and get no time for your art, you will be frustrated. Define what these limits are for yourself — how much time can you give to other things?

And when it comes to deciding what other things to participate in, it’s worth asking yourself the question: what do I say yes to? What do I say no to?

Don’t make it a competition

If we are generally absorbed in our passion when we create, it can be easy to forget that a relationship is also a passion. It also requires time, and attention.

Don’t pit your lover against your art.

It can be easy for a person to feel jealous, ignored, or somehow forgotten, if you are sitting in your room all day, every day, having ‘alone time’ for your work. Don’t create the situation where your partner must compete. Make sure you do set aside the time for them — quality time, to be together, to talk, to exchange, to rekindle your passion for each other. What we nurture grows.

Your partner (if they are a good one!) wants to support you and love you, and be there for you during your process. Don’t repay them by being obtuse, or treating them as an extra or aside to your creative pursuits. That sounds extreme, but it can happen — it’s a balance between defining your boundaries, and making sure you still give your time and energy to the relationship in order for it to flourish. Don’t wait for them to have to prompt you.

In my case, my partner and I always have our morning coffee together, first thing after we wake up. Benefits or drawbacks of this kind of caffeine intake aside, it works for us! He loves coffee, I love coffee, we love to talk. So that’s what we do for the first half hour of our day. After that, he goes to the office and I do too (so to speak). We each leave for our respective ‘jobs’. I write my novel for an hour or two, then get stuck in to client work.

That half an hour every single morning is golden quality time for us (and quality time is definitely our shared love language!). We seed in other opportunities — occasional lunch times, Friday nights, time on the weekend. I don’t make myself write on weekends.

Those are simply decisions I’ve made (and we’ve made) to keep our relationship strong. Find the moments of connection that work for you.

And on the other hand… Don’t forget that you must participate!

While we certainly do require solitude, recharging, and quiet thinking time, artists do actually have to participate in the world too, to make art about it! It can be easy to forget how vital this is if you do manage to create a space and time to make the work happen.

In Anne Lamott’s wonderful guide for writing (and a creative life more generally), Bird by Bird, she says:

To be a good writer, you not only have to write a great deal, but you have to care. you do have to care… A writer always tries, I think, to be a part of the solution, to understand a little about life and to pass it on.

This applies to all kinds of artists. Lamott then cites “grim and unsentimental” Beckett, who still manages to offer up observations that are wry, witty, funny, and very human. The fact remains that all artists must observe and participate in the world to some extent, at least for a little while, in order to explore it in their work. She has another quote I’m particularly fond of:

There is ecstasy in paying attention.

Beauty, wonder, awe… all of these things are what we look for in art itself, often. But they are, of course, in life. Paying attention to the world is itself the ecstasy we often need to be inspired.

In conclusion, life as an artist is a tough balance. When we’re inspired, excited, or especially motivated, we can feel like we need to leave the world behind. And when we’re tired, depleted, or struggling, we can feel we need solitude to recover, replenish and restart. But our relationships give us the support, strength and love we often need to realise our creative projects. Nurturing both of these things is not inconceivable.