I was hiding in the bathroom at work, covered in cerulean blue paint that I’d somehow gotten on my blazer during my lunch break “quick painting session.” It was 1:47 PM on a Wednesday, I had a client meeting in 13 minutes, and I looked like I’d been in a fight with a Smurf. This was my life at 59: CFO by day, wannabe artist by stolen moments, constantly showing up to afternoon meetings with paint under my fingernails and panic in my heart that someone would discover I cared more about color mixing than quarterly reports.
That bathroom moment was my breaking point. I’d been trying to squeeze art into the margins of my life like it was a guilty secret. Five minutes before work, ten minutes at lunch, exhausted dabbling after dinner. I was a weekend artist without weekends, because weekends were for catching up on work, errands, and collapsing. Sound familiar?
Two years later at 61, I’m still working full-time, but I create art regularly. Not perfectly, not professionally, but consistently and joyfully. My paintings hang in our home, friends’ homes, and even sold a few. The secret wasn’t finding more time; it was revolutionizing how I thought about time, passion, and permission.
The Reality of Creative Dreams After 50
Let’s be honest about what we’re juggling:
- Full-time job that drains mental energy
- Family obligations that never end
- Aging parents who need more help
- Bodies that need more maintenance
- Houses that constantly need something
- Financial pressure to keep working
- Exhaustion that hits by 7 PM
Then someone says, “Just make time for your passion!” Right. With what time? The 3 AM slot between insomnia and alarm?
My Failed Attempts at Being a “Weekend Artist”
The 5 AM Club Disaster: Read about successful people creating before dawn. Set alarm for 5 AM to paint. Painted exactly once. Fell asleep standing at easel. Curtis found me with brush still in hand, face-planted in palette. Green is not my color.
The Weekend Warrior Fail: Blocked Saturdays for art. Reality: Saturdays became laundry, groceries, cleaning, visiting mom, fixing whatever broke that week. By Sunday, too exhausted to hold brush.
The Vacation Artist Fantasy: “I’ll paint on vacation!” Brought supplies to beach. Sand in paint. Wind knocked over easel. Sunburn made holding brush painful. Painted nothing. Overthought everything.
The Mindset Shift That Changed Everything
My therapist asked, “Why do you treat art like an affair you’re having instead of a relationship you’re building?”
Boom. I was treating creativity like something illicit, stolen, shameful. Something that had to be hidden from my “real” life. No wonder it wasn’t working.
Started treating art as legitimate as eating lunch. Not luxury. Necessity. Self-compassion included feeding creative hunger.
The Micro-Session Revolution
Abandoned the “block of time” fantasy. Embraced micro-sessions:
Morning Micro (6:45-7:00 AM): While coffee brews, sketch one thing. Anything. Curtis’s coffee mug. My hand. The cat looking judgmental. Not finished art. Just wake up creative brain.
Lunch Micro (12:00-12:15 PM): Eat at desk (I know, I know). Use saved 15 minutes for creating. Keep supplies in office drawer. Tiny paintings. Color swatches. Doodles that matter.
Transition Micro (5:30-5:45 PM): Between work and home life, stop at park. Sketch from car. Creates mental transition. Tells brain: work-you is done, creative-you exists.
Evening Micro (8:30-8:45 PM): While Curtis watches news (depressing), I paint small. Not masterpieces. Just movement of paint on canvas. Sometimes just mixing colors I love.
That’s one hour daily, broken into digestible pieces. Small wins accumulated into real progress.
The Workspace Reality Check
Stopped waiting for perfect studio. Created “pop-up art spaces”:
Kitchen Table Studio: Plastic tablecloth, supplies in rolling cart. Setup: 2 minutes. Cleanup: 5 minutes. Curtis eats around my mess. True love.
Car Studio: Sketch kit in glove box. Parking lot art sessions. Weird looks from others. Don’t care.
Office Studio: Bottom desk drawer is secret art supply stash. Boss doesn’t know. Probably wouldn’t care. Fear kept it secret anyway.
Bathroom Studio: Yes, really. Bathtub painting sessions. Easy cleanup. Lock guarantees no interruption. Best ideas come here.
The Integration Strategy
Instead of separating work and art, started integrating:
Meeting Doodles: Discovered doodling during boring meetings helps focus. Filled notebooks with abstract patterns. Some became painting ideas.
Commute Creating: (Passenger only!) Curtis drives, I sketch. Thirty minutes each way = hour of practice. He says I’m better company when creating.
Waiting Room Art: Doctor appointments, oil changes, anywhere waiting happens. Sketch kit travels everywhere. Turned waiting into creating.
Problem-Solving Painting: Work problem? Paint while thinking. Different part of brain engages. Solutions appear. Boss thinks I’m genius. Really just painting through problems.
The Energy Management Truth
Biggest obstacle wasn’t time. Was energy. After full day of CFO-ing, brain felt like mush. Discovered:
Creative energy is different from work energy. Using creative energy actually restored work energy. Like charging different battery.
Physical tiredness doesn’t equal creative tiredness. Could be exhausted but still able to paint. Painting sometimes energized me.
Perfectionism kills more art than time shortage. Silencing inner critic Nagatha freed energy for creating.
The Support System Revolution
Curtis became art enabler: Bought me supplies for birthday. Built me easel. Says “go paint” when I’m stressed. Keeper.
Found online art community: Other weekend artists who get it. Share 2 AM paintings. No judgment. All encouragement.
Work colleagues discovered secret: After paint-on-blazer incident, came clean. Now they ask about paintings. Some commissioned pieces. CFO who paints became my brand.
The Boundary Setting Requirements
Had to set boundaries to protect creative time:
- No work emails after 8 PM (painting time)
- Sunday mornings are sacred (art only)
- Lunch breaks are actually breaks
- “Sorry, I have commitment” (to myself counts)
- No is complete sentence
People adjusted. World didn’t end. Art happened.
The Progress Not Perfection Method
Tracking shifted everything:
Not: “I painted for 3 hours”
But: “I painted today” ✓
Not: “I finished a masterpiece”
But: “I tried new technique” ✓
Not: “I’m good enough to show”
But: “I created something” ✓
365 check marks better than 10 perfect sessions.
Two Years Later: The Reality
At 61, still working full-time. Art practice looks like:
- Daily micro-sessions (15-30 minutes)
- One longer weekend session (2-3 hours)
- Monthly art date with myself
- Quarterly workshop or class
- Annual art retreat (aka vacation with paint)
Created over 100 paintings. Sold 12. Gave away 30. Rest decorate our world. Not quitting day job, but feeding soul job.
The Unexpected Benefits
Work improved: Creative problem-solving transferred. Better presentations. Innovative solutions. Boss noticed.
Stress decreased: Painting became meditation. Mood chemicals balanced.
Identity expanded: Not just CFO. Artist CFO. Whole person.
Retirement planning changed: Not racing to full retirement. Planning creative semi-retirement. Art + part-time work = sustainable joy.
Marriage improved: Happier me = happier us. Curtis loves artist-me.
P.S. – Yesterday, 4:30 PM, about to leave office when CEO stopped by. “Quick question about the budget…” Thirty minutes later, finally escaped. Drove straight to park. Painted sunset from car for 20 minutes. Arrived home with orange paint on my nose, budget solutions in my head, and peace in my heart. Curtis took one look and said, “Good day?” “I painted,” I said. “So yes, good day.” He heated up dinner while I cleaned brushes. This is weekend artist reality: Not waiting for perfect conditions. Not massive time blocks. Just showing up consistently in the margins until the margins become the main text. My business card still says CFO. But my soul says artist. At 61, both are true. The paint under my fingernails proves it.
