We caught up with the brilliant and insightful Mel Rea a few weeks ago and have shared our conversation below.

Mel, appreciate you joining us today. Are you happy as a creative professional? Do you sometimes wonder what it would be like to work for someone else?

I love being an artist for various reasons: my love of art, freedom, and the ongoing creative challenges. The process itself is something I fall in and out of love with. Self-doubt is an ongoing obstacle. Some days I feel like I have the golden touch to every task. That feeling is sandwiched between days I’m astonished I sell anything. I often wonder what I ate the night before to create this emotional waffling effect. That said, I wake up knowing confidently that being an artist is exactly how I was meant to spend my life. For that, I’m eternally grateful.

I do often think about having a regular job. My workspace is whisper quiet. I envy artists who sing and dance to chaotic music. I’m not able to create this way. I love my hushed studio but sometimes crave the mayhem of human activity. It’s in these moments that I put myself out into the world, only in short time to happily retreat to my quiet space.

Mel, before we move on to more of these sorts of questions, can you take some time to bring our readers up to speed on you and what you do?

I didn’t grow up dreaming about being an artist. I went to college with every other career agenda in mind. After stumbling through a variety of directions, I quickly realized my strength is creativity. I took an elective ceramics class that changed my trajectory.

I received a BFA in ceramics from Kent State University. I created near to life-size figurative pieces. My figures often relied on imaginary characters, while others referenced historical. I held a particular affection for Egyptian and Japanese cultural dressing traditions. After years of devotion to clay, I pursued a desire to paint.

My first painting medium was encaustics (painting with molten beeswax). My inspiration came from my grandfather who spent his childhood in Russia. The farm that was nearest to my grandfather’s childhood farm was an apiary. It became his sanctuary for respite, and he dreamed of having his own bee farm. His dream came true as an adult in the States. As a young girl, I felt a sense of peace walking amongst my grandfather’s hives. I developed a deep connection, respect, and appreciation for Mother Nature. Like many artists, nature is a constant source of inspiration.

While foraging through my grandfather’s belongings after his passing, I found a bucket of wax from the last of his hives. At this point, I had only heard of painting with beeswax. The history of encaustics (dating to Greek artists as far back as the 5th century B. C.) appealed to my sense of nostalgia. This became a pivotal moment in my art career. It was with that old bucket of beeswax, that I taught myself to paint. As an added indicator that I was pursuing a tailored direction, my full name is Melissa, the Greek word for “honeybee”.

Since that time, I’ve experimented with every variety of painting medium I could find. My current body of work is process-based painting being rooted in intuition and spontaneity. I relinquish control and allow the painting to unfold while following its own logic of movements and colors. I’m currently working with acrylic and gouache, though this is always subject to change as I am ever-evolving.

How about pivoting – can you share the story of a time you’ve had to pivot?

After years of working with clay, I grew disconnected and depressed with the medium. I no longer found joy in the process of sculpting. I was in constant fear of sculptures exploding or distorting during the firing process in the kiln. My back hurt on a daily basis. I was daunted by the logistics of shipping work, my dependence on studio equipment, and overall expenses. I had fallen out of love and felt utterly lost.

I fumbled endlessly during this time and considered giving up art altogether. Instead of leaving the art world, I decided the pain in my back would take kindlier to painting. Without ever taking a formal class in painting, I decided this was my new course. The transition was not without tribulations. I cocktailed a mental mix of boldness and delusion as I shifted directions. Somehow, it’s all worked out.

We’d love to hear a story of resilience from your journey.

The financial risk of pursuing an art career was daunting. I opted to go all out and work full-time as an artist very early on. I adjusted my lifestyle to accommodate a meager income. There was a point while living in Los Angeles that a dinner out was an art opening where I would squirrel away cheese and crackers laid out for potential patrons. I wore only hand-me-down clothes and cut my own hair. I scrubbed toilets, swept the floor, emptied the garbage, answered the phone, and was an overall “take care of this kid” in a local studio in exchange for free workspace. I pinched pennies, tightened my belt, and picked up the occasional waitressing job during financial droughts. I laugh at my younger self now. The financial stress grew deep roots in my young psyche. To this day, I worry if my last sale is my LAST sale. But sales continue, and life has become very kind to me.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.melrea.com/
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/mel_rea_art/

Image Credits

The second image photo credit – Chris Langer