Sunday, September 10, 2017

Blessings disguised as hardships

Graphite on paper


I used to draw, mostly in pencil. Then in 1986 I stopped. It wasn't a conscious decision, it just happened. 

My life took a dramatic shift, I divorced my first husband, buried myself in work and only my ghost stayed the studio.  

Not creating was like losing a lover; a big void in my heart. At first I didn't see what was happening. But over time, little by little, I lost sight of myself.  And even though I was in the embrace of a new and exciting relationship, I was restless. 

Fourteen years later, my muse decided to wake me up. I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I realized if I was going to get back into making art, I better start, now. 

I made a vow to myself, after treatment, I would find a workshop. I would no longer just look at my studio; I would re-claim my creative territory.

So why did I stop and why did it take me so long to go back? 
FEAR. 

The longer I stayed away, the scarier it got. I was out of practice. I could no longer "see." That creative agility seemed to be gone. 

Now I look back at those fourteen lost years, and wonder where my art would be today if I hadn't stopped. I know it's a foolish thing; I can't re-claim lost time, but sometimes I can't help but think that way. 

I'm not the first to say this; getting sick was one of the best things that happened especially since this was just a warning shot.  

Like all artists, I have my spectacular days, my ordinary days and my crappy days in the studio, but I show up. That's really all that is asked. Show up. Be a partner. Pay attention to that very important part of you. 

















Tuesday, September 5, 2017

My addiction

Vizier
Arches oil paper
22.5 x 15 inches
oil, cold wax, lithograph pencil 


Every artist seeks recognition. Otherwise why make the work? Without an audience we are just creating visual soliloquies in the dark, alone, hiding our star. 

Look at social media. The lure of seeing "how many likes and comments" we received on a post.  It's addictive. And it can damage our ability to take those necessary risks that push our work from mediocre to something truly real and sublime. 

If trapped by "recognition" we can actually watch our singular, extraordinary genius swirl down the drain into the pool of the ordinary. 

Making work to please an audience instead of pleasing ourselves is a death sentence to our authenticity. The first person that needs to recognize our work is us. We need to aim to work "above ourselves in order that we may be able to live with ourselves." Friedrich Nietzsche

I'm a victim of this internet disease. I use facebook and instagram to promote my work, but I can't help myself from checking my posts to see how they are "trending". 

Elizabeth Gilbert writes in, Big Magic, that our creativity is not benign. If we don't listen and answer to our muse, she will find a way to lead us into a dark, unhappy place.

We will try to quiet her by anesthetizing ourselves with some other form of addiction, most of which are not going to do us any favors: alcoholism, drug addiction, sex addiction, spending addiction, king midas addiction. They're all around us. We see and hear about them every day. 

Its hard work and scary to develop your creative self. Doubt swirls around like a smoke ring whispering; do you even know what you're doing? why? who cares?

 But if we can gather the courage to just do it anyway, Wow, we can create some amazing stuff. We see it around us every day.  It is joyful and makes us happy.

When hesitating to go into my studio for a laundry basket full of excuses I remind myself; this is my one life, my one chance; do not deny it.