For the last several months I've been working toward making a career out of my art (out of my creativity, really), which I find to be an exciting venture - and absolutely terrifying. For a long time I was struggling with finding my "voice." I was caught in this horrible trap of feeling I had to justify my work and found myself spinning my wheels creating things that were soul-less, unresolved, and lacking in artistic merit or integrity. Once I identified this, I was able to make a shift; I realised that it's OK for me to work in my studio on my own and to work intuitively. And if I had to find words to explain it, I could do that after the fact; because when you're working intuitively it doesn't mean the work itself is done without thought or purpose, but rather it is created on a more subconcious level, based on information stored in your brain from some earlier time. It's OK to reflect on your creation after it's been created and work your way back to its source. And maybe for me that's how I have to do it. When I was a kid I used to love doing maze puzzles but could never solve them by entering from the outer circle to the inner sanctum. I had to start from the inside and work my way out. I think it might be how I'm wired.
So I found my way out of one trap only to find myself entangled in another: searching for success and ways to make money at my creativity. It's a dangerous combination, I think. I was talking to my friend the other day and she asked me how the "business" was going. I told her it's not. That some days I just feel like throwing in the towel. She asked why. I said I just feel like I'm floundering. I'm spending my time making things and and more things and I take photos and put it out there and still, get nothing. A few random sales, but not much. I had some brochure printed of my more "crafty" products and posted them through doors. Handed them out to people. It drove people to my website, but didn't drive them to buy. People have commented that they like this or that and are interested in this or that, but there's something that's blocking them from making a purchase. That tells me it's because my work is lacking something. Because I know loads of people out there who are selling their creativity and they're doing really well. I can't help but feel that my product is somehow lacking. I don't know what it is: craftsmanship? Originality? Quirkiness?
My friend listened to me patiently and then said this: "you listen to me. You are not going to give up. You've only been at this for a few months; some people spend years trying to make a business work. I think you're still finding your voice. I think you've still got work to do. Are you journaling? Are you sketching ideas? I think you're so caught up in making money that you're somehow preventing yourself from reaching your potential. You need to put that aside. Because you're not an artist to make money. You're an artist because you were born with the need to create. So that's what you do. If you make work that is true to who you are, people will recognize that. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but they will see it."
And you know, I think she's right. No, I know she's right. I have been caught up in the end goal, which is affecting my creative output. I put so much pressure on myself that I end up floundering, unable to make decisions. I feel like a fish out of water - so desperate for air and all I can do is flop all around. I'm a fish, flopping around in my studio getting covered in sawdust and dog hair, drying up and becoming immobilized. I don't want to be that fish anymore. I want to be productive. I want to be creative. I want to get my MOJO BACK!
So I've decided two things: I'm going to give myself up to creative impulsion and I'm going to get out into the art scene. It's time to let go of the wall and skate right out into the middle of the floor!
So I found my way out of one trap only to find myself entangled in another: searching for success and ways to make money at my creativity. It's a dangerous combination, I think. I was talking to my friend the other day and she asked me how the "business" was going. I told her it's not. That some days I just feel like throwing in the towel. She asked why. I said I just feel like I'm floundering. I'm spending my time making things and and more things and I take photos and put it out there and still, get nothing. A few random sales, but not much. I had some brochure printed of my more "crafty" products and posted them through doors. Handed them out to people. It drove people to my website, but didn't drive them to buy. People have commented that they like this or that and are interested in this or that, but there's something that's blocking them from making a purchase. That tells me it's because my work is lacking something. Because I know loads of people out there who are selling their creativity and they're doing really well. I can't help but feel that my product is somehow lacking. I don't know what it is: craftsmanship? Originality? Quirkiness?
My friend listened to me patiently and then said this: "you listen to me. You are not going to give up. You've only been at this for a few months; some people spend years trying to make a business work. I think you're still finding your voice. I think you've still got work to do. Are you journaling? Are you sketching ideas? I think you're so caught up in making money that you're somehow preventing yourself from reaching your potential. You need to put that aside. Because you're not an artist to make money. You're an artist because you were born with the need to create. So that's what you do. If you make work that is true to who you are, people will recognize that. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but they will see it."
And you know, I think she's right. No, I know she's right. I have been caught up in the end goal, which is affecting my creative output. I put so much pressure on myself that I end up floundering, unable to make decisions. I feel like a fish out of water - so desperate for air and all I can do is flop all around. I'm a fish, flopping around in my studio getting covered in sawdust and dog hair, drying up and becoming immobilized. I don't want to be that fish anymore. I want to be productive. I want to be creative. I want to get my MOJO BACK!
So I've decided two things: I'm going to give myself up to creative impulsion and I'm going to get out into the art scene. It's time to let go of the wall and skate right out into the middle of the floor!
my beloved shell
I started last night. I have this shell that I found at one of the beaches in the Northwest - possibly Crosby beach? Anyway, it's a very special shell, always tugging at my mind begging me not to forget about it.
my sketch of the beloved shell
Last night, as I was about to clock out of the studio for the day, I opened up my sketchbook and started drawing it, studying its intriguing barnacle-like formations. I found it tough going, because I haven't properly worked in my sketchbook in ages. But it felt really good to put those marks down. I felt like Howard Roark from The Fountainhead, drawing with command, using thick, dark lines. And you know what? I felt like it opened something up inside of me. Maybe only just a crack, but that's where it all begins. With one step and a break in the surface.
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