the first of my new series, which I haven’t named, yet
This hasn’t happened to me in a very long time. Back when I was painting regularly (maybe 15 years ago), it was so common, I gave it a name (Monsoon Season). But this time, its a completely different experience.
Back then, I would get absolutely flooded by ideas, and be so frustrated by the fact that I couldn’t get to them all, that I would rarely get around to any of them. Then, as the ideas stopped flooding in, the pendulum would swing to The Drought, during which time I was too uninspired to create any of the images I had so desperately wanted to create, only weeks before. It was a vicious cycle. The only time I generally got anything done was in between The Drought and the next Monsoon.
This time, the flood gates opened because I was making art, and making it without the usual judgement and fear that has been my almost constant companion any time I step in front of a canvas.
I had an idea for a series some time ago and I sat on it, allowing it to germinate. I thought of variations. I drew sketches (which I never do). I let the ideas consume me for weeks, before I ever started prepping the first canvas.
A few days ago, about the same time I decided it was time to start the first piece in the series, I began listening to several new podcasts that I am now totally in love with (Write Life, The Empowered Creative, Do It For the Process, and Make Share Grow), and feeling super inspired.
I was in the middle of creating that first piece as I listened to “Episode 1: 14 Ways to Remain Inspired and ALIVE in Your Creativity” of Do It For the Process, and something inside of me broke open. It was almost like a sob of relief racked my body, but with no sound and no jerking, and yet, most definitely an overwhelming physical sensation accompanied by deep emotion. I found myself putting marks on a canvas and knowing that it didn’t matter at all if it didn’t turn out like I was hoping! (Yes, however long I may have struggled to grasp this concept, it was a serious revelation! Maybe because I have struggled so long.)
Why did I suddenly feel this way? It’s a bit of a mystery. Part of it may be the materials I had settled on. (I got a massive sheet of foam insulation for under $20 and have enough canvases to paint for a few weeks). Part of it may be finally reaching an age when I just don’t care so much what people might think of me. (There are gifts to aging, kiddos, believe it, or not!) Maybe the confidence of my growing photography skills seeped into my painting process.
a few of the many variations I’ve sketched
Or, maybe it was finally just TIME.
Time to break open. Time to pour out what has been crammed inside. Time to unfurl. (I love that word!) Time to reach, stretch, and grow.
So, I’m rolling with it. And it feels amazing.
To celebrate, and to ride the wave, I’ve decided to do a 30 Day Mixed Media Challenge, of my own devising. Because I have always wanted to work in a series, but never have offered myself the discipline to do it, until now.
Here are my chosen boundaries:
-foam insulation as a canvas
-some sort of rough texture applied to canvas (plaster, paper maché, cheesecloth, etc)
-neutral colors
-at least one element that doesn’t immediately spring to mind when thinking of painting/drawing (twigs, rocks, wire, whatever)
Every day, I will do at least one tiny little part of a piece. Cut out the foam. Plaster it. Add a single mark. Whatever. It can be three seconds, and it can get painted over the next day, but something will be done.
prepped canvases, waiting for their turn
At the end of the month, I will have a series. And I will open an online shop for my mixed media work, alongside my still life prints. I may even approach some local galleries! It’s long been a dream of mine to have my work hanging in a gallery. So, yeah…I am committing right now, in front of all of you, to make that leap and see what happens. (SQUEEEEEE!!! Wish me luck!)
Also at the end of the month, unless I am still immersed in this series, I will start a new series based off of my favorite of all of my old painting - the peapods, something I’ve been intending for probably 10 years now.
You know what the most interesting thing about this whole process? How dead on my teacher from many, many years ago was when he said that choosing to create (at least for a given period of time) within a set of self-selected limitations creates a wild freedom to your creativity. My mind is blown. I don’t have to step in front of the canvas and wonder what I’m going to create. I already know that much. I can focus on which color of 30 (rather than 300) that I’m going to work with. I can focus on what sort of mark I want to make to balance that element in the other corner. I can be so much more specific about my choices.
The thing is, I have always approached my creative pursuits in the spirit of freestyling, which I love! And many good things have come of it. But in working with still life photography, I have discovered the joys of being more methodical. Of (gasp!) pre-planning! I am stunned at how much easier it makes the process of putting paint to canvas. Fewer decisions, less stress and self-doubt. At the same time, I cant wait to see what happens next time I am facing a blank canvas with no plan. I think the whole thing will have shifted. Who knows? That’s part of what makes art exciting. You never really know what’s just around the corner.