multimedia artwork

A few months back, my son came home, and I had him to myself for seven glorious hours.

I reserved time at Radio Social, a cool local club where we bowled and played Jenga with oversized rectangular blocks. I took him to get a haircut and non-essential provisions at Target. Over flautas and a brisket burrito, we smiled and laughed – and I was just so thankful to be alive.

“I’m proud of you,” my son said. “You never give up.”

After he left, I thought about his words. When I was bedridden and suffering from the prolonged symptoms of post acute withdrawal syndrome, I wanted to quit. I didn’t think I would ever heal.

Four and a half years later, I am so glad that I held on.

It stuns me how the trajectory of my life completely changed when I got sick. When I was cognitively scrambled ~ unable to read or write or do very much at all ~ I had to dig deep and find something to pass the hours.

I continue to be amazed that people are buying my art, that the things I do and say influence others ~ and most importantly, that I have people in my life that I care about and who care about me.

And yet.

There’s still so much I want to accomplish.

Now that I am mostly healed from my iatrogenic injury, I’m aware that time is short and I want to make a difference.

I’ve always been ambitious.

When I was a wee thing, I painted rocks, put them in a bag, and set out to show them to my neighbors. One woman was particularly kind. Mrs. Silverman turned over each painted rock in her hands and insisted in paying me a quarter for one of my creations. I remember being shocked about being offered money ~ and also feeling proud. Feeling confident, I wandered up and down the street, trying to sell my wares. My efforts were partially motivated by a desire for financial independence ~ my parents wouldn’t buy me that Tiffany Taylor doll, and I had to figure out how to get her somehow. But more than the doll, I had a profound need for people to see what I’d done.

I wanted the recognition.

I needed it.

These days, little has changed.

As one of my former students said in one of his recent blog posts: “I just want to make stuff and I want people to see it.”

Thank you for putting it out there, Kurt Indovina.

I’m internally motivated, yes.

But I also like a little validation.

That’s a lie.

I like to receive a lot of validation.

Creating art in isolation gets lonely, which is why I’m so appreciative when people leave a comment or hit LIKE, or interact with me when I am LIVE on Facebook.

So I’m owning it unapologetically.

I’m a creative.

An artist and a writer. A teacher & an activist.

And a wanna-be superstar.

I want my family to be proud of me.

And I want to be remembered as a prolific artist who made the world a little more beautiful, one painting at a time.

What do you want to be remembered for?

Dear Friends:

If you’ve been following me at RASJACOBSON ORIGINALS on Facebook, you know I just finished this little lady.

PERPLEXIA is a little different than the whimsigirls I usually paint. She’s a little frustrated over the state of affairs in the world right now, but she’s trying to stay hopeful.

This 18×24 inch multimedia piece features lots of layers of thick acrylic paint as well as color pencils and pastel crayons & oil markers & select papers.

I’m over the moon for this little red-head.

She’s almost dry and looking to go to her forever home.

If you’re interested in purchasing the original, message me for details about pricing.

There’s only one original, and once it’s gone – it’s gone!

As you know, much of my work is available as 6×6 prints (on Masonite squares – $30), trivets (black framed 8×8 – $40), coasters ($10), and magnets ($5). I also have select images available on pendants for $25 and blank greeting cards/envelopes for $5 each.

Original art makes a great gift for weddings, confirmations, graduations, birthdays & b’nai mitzvahs.

Interested in custom work? Feel free to email me with your questions.

Thank you for your continued support, everyone!

Sincerely,