Sometimes I have a little laugh to myself about all the debate around what it means to be an artist, whether or not you are one, and how claiming it can bring up feelings of being a fraud or fear of seeming arrogant and so on.
{And yes, I’m extremely familiar with these kinds of thoughts and feelings; this isn’t a superiority rant.}
Sometimes I just want to put all of that on the side and say, if only to myself;
“Look, you lovely human being ~ you make marks on paper or canvas or something with some kind of material; you make things with your hands; you love it; it brings you joy; do you really need to give yourself another label for it to be true? Does that label make it any more valid, really? And who is defining the word here anyway?”
As far as I’m concerned, if you are human, you’re an artist, but that’s a debate for another time.
Recently I was in my studio noodling about, doing a bit of painting, washing brushes, enjoying the late afternoon sunlight slanting through the skylights. I started thinking about some of those little experiences that come with making art, or being an artist, or whatever you want to call it, that people don’t always know about, if they don’t make art, or talk about if they do.
And how I’ve noticed that some of those little experiences can be what hold people back and cripple their confidence to the point where they do nothing, and so lose out on a genuine path to joy.
Sometimes people look at me and what I do and think I always know what I’m doing, or that I’m heaped with a confidence they don’t have access to.
That depends what day you catch me on, but if you’re thinking I’m somehow different from you because I’m not scared to make art {or a mess!}, or because I have a dedicated studio, or whatever your reasoning might be, here are some things that might surprise you:
- Sometimes I will sit down to paint, or stand in front of my easel with everything ready to go, and 100% feel like I’ve forgotten how to make art. I’m literally not even sure how to make a mark.
- It’s surprisingly easy to get into ruts of painting the same way, making the same kind of marks, using the same colours. There’s nothing inherently wrong with this, but it can lead to stagnation which in turn leads to frustration. And that is a great way to dry up, lose confidence and create nothing.
- I have cried tears of frustration in the studio before.
- Some paintings are never finished and I don’t know what to do with them. {I usually paint over them.}
- I can get tangled up in envy over the work of another artist to the point where I don’t want to do it myself because ‘it’s bound to be shit and I’ll never be as good as they are’.
- I can start a painting all fired up by inspiration and that particular rush that comes with it, go back the next day and find I’ve lost it. I’ve forgotten what that feeling was and I don’t know how to get it back, which then feels like I don’t know how to continue with the painting. It feels like something’s been lost.
- Days and even weeks can go by with no painting or drawing. I’d love to say I am constantly inspired and endlessly prolific, but the fact is I am not; for me it comes in intense and unpredictable bursts. I might wish it were different, but forcing it doesn’t work for me, and I’m ok with that. {That said, I am looking into bringing a bit more structure into my art making, but it’s based around ease, not forcing.}
People don’t always talk about these tiny truths, about what really happens. Or they gloss over them with handy solutions, as if applying them once is always enough. {And if it isn’t for you, then what? Does that mean you’ve failed?}
And I’ll tell you one more truth: it’s all ok.
Here’s what I know.
If you can reach a point where whatever happens, you can be ok with it {and ultimately if you want any kind of peace with it you will have to keep making that choice}, then it doesn’t matter what your inner critical voice says, or what judgements and throwaway comments others make about what you do.
They are empty air, just an energy frequency with nowhere to go unless we give them value.
Everything that happens in the studio {or on the dining table} is ok. There will be triumphs and traumas and everything in between, exactly like in day to day life, and in the end, you can learn to choose {yes, over and over and over} to approach it with curiosity and amusement, and know that every step is a step forward, even when it doesn’t look or feel like it.
Practice makes progress, not perfect!
{I don’t know who said that, but I like it.}
Please don’t let a single word, with all its inherent possible meanings, stop you from doing what you most desire to do.
I know that lots of you who read this blog make art in one form or another. What are your tiny truths? How do you find ways to pursue what your heart wants, in spite of the fears and doubts? How do you make peace with the icky parts? Go on, I’ve shown you mine, you show me yours. 😉
This is perfect, thank you Tara. I’m going to go watch one of you videos and make some marks on paper now.
Love
Cecilia
Ox
Yay! I’m glad you enjoyed it Cecilia. 🙂 Happy drawing!
Yep, I can tick all of those (although I don’t cry – I just swear a lot!)
What are my tiny truths?
* I am too easily distracted. Maybe it’s a coping mechanism when I have a great idea but don’t know where/how to start.
*Blank canvas taunts me, but blank pages don’t.
*I over-complicate things. When I started being creative, it was cards, and I could rustle one up in 5 minutes with a stamp and bit of ribbon. Now I stare at the blank card for ages, then go and do something else (see point 1!).
Hmmm……..
I’ll stop there before I start hogging your blog 😀
Nigel these are great! So interesting! I hear you on the distraction, although once I’m ‘in’ I find that stops. And interesting too that there’s a difference for you between blank canvas and blank pages ~ now I think about it I have the opposite!
I can so understand, and appreciate, your words here. Why it is that we do this to ourselves? I know, from last week, when I had myself in knots thinking I was not good enough, would not be able to pull it off etc etc; everyone else said ‘but of your course you will’. And so I did. But in the meantime, I went through agonies. I do think, by the very nature of what we do – respectively – we put so much of ourselves, out there – to be judged or whatever; this, different from say being a lawyer, or an accountant etc. It would just be lovely to have a certain level of confidence and assured-ness from which to start!!! 🙂 I do love your studio btw!!! The light is gorgeous
There’s a great quote by someone I don’t remember just now, to do with ‘the greater the artist, the greater the doubt’, so I’ll go with that! 😉 I think it’s at least partly because artists of all kinds, for whom it’s a big part of their identity, are by nature very sensitive, and so it kind of comes with the territory.
Hi Tara,
pretty much everything you’ve said resonates with me. I love that quote “practice makes progress, not perfect!”
Perfectionism has haunted me for years. But no more! I have finally come to realize my uniqueness doesn’t make me less equal or valid than anyone else.
Distractions with family, community, and wanting(needing) to try new mediums and start numerous projects all at the same time can cause a glitch in my creative process too. Okay, so some glitches have languished for years … but on the upside, I do get to most of them and the finished product is better (in my humble opinion) than what was originally planned. No art before its time!
Hi Joanne, thank you so much for leaving your thoughts here. Oh yes, distractions! I have multiple project syndrome too; I like to think of it as being creative across the board. 🙂
I LOVE your studio!! I work on the dining table in the kitchen, and it’s perfectly OK for me, but fell in love with your studio. I’m so happy for you that you’ve got your own special place to work!
As for your questions at the end of your post …. I’ve learned to be gentle with myself (most of the time, not always) and don’t force myself to continue painting, when I’m not in the mood or when I’m tired. I work on paper, and my paintings require a lot of work, I have to be very attentive, careful etc., there’re almost no mistakes allowed in my work. A couple of times I pushed myself to finish the paintings, because it seemed responsible and a good/right thing to do …… and yes, I ruined the paintings (and a month or so of hard work). I’ve learned the hard way, that discipline is not everything. 🙂
Jasna
Jasna I’d love to see your work, it sounds intriguing. Do you have a website? And I love this: ‘discipline is not everything’. It’s not anything in my house! Ha.
I don’t have a website. Actually, I don’t even have a camera – I hope I’ll be able to get one by the end of February if not sooner. I’m still deeply in the “transition period”. But I do have a photo of a collage I made for myself. I’ve intended to send you an email with that photo included as my way of saying Thank you. 🙂 I’ll do it today or tomorrow.
Oh, discipline …. what an odd word. It makes me think of something sticky and annoying ….. Such a nuisance … 😉
Great post! I’m not an artist, but a dancer. I used to be very goal-oriented. I wanted to dance for this long today, and I wanted to achieve this and this. Then I realised that was the surest way to kill my love for hooping.
I have realised recently that in my dance practice all I am required to do is show up daily, with my hoop, and dance. Some days the planets align and I hoop like a dream, other days all I can do is drill the same move over and over. It’s not important. What’s important is that I’m there and I dance.
I didn’t realise you were a dancer Anne-Marie, although now I think about those little hooping videos you post on Instagram it’s quite obvious! I LOVE what you say here about just showing up; that is what I am endeavouring to do now, even if I don’t touch a paintbrush, I show up in the studio. It’s like an affirmation of my commitment to myself.
Funny how often I’ve seen this same discussion about being a “runner” too. I think we all get sucked into these kinds of titles. My truth is that I keep telling myself that my art isn’t better because I haven’t spent enough time developing my skills but really I’m afraid that I’ll never have enough skills and that a ‘true’ artist has ‘natural gifts’ that skills can never outshine. You know, the “if you don’t try you can’t fail” mentality. You also can’t succeed very well that way either though…thanks for the post Tara!!
Thanks for sharing your thoughts on this Lorinda, and I know that fear too.