This is me, about 40+ years ago. I was a typical, atypical child of the 1970's, growing up partly in England and partly in Germany with charismatic parents, numerous dogs and on occasion ponies and geese. I was loved but enveloped in confusion generated by those 'charismatic' lives and by the decades that have resulted in my (often similarly confused) peers and I being labelled as 'GenX',
In a chaotic childhood of packing and unpacking (we moved a lot) I was encouraged to explore all avenues of creativity from an early age. I wrote comic books and poems, made Christmas decorations from foil and egg boxes and designed elaborate gowns for various toys with tissues and Sellotape. And I drew, a lot. I was going to be an artist and unlike so many others I was never discouraged. So I drew and painted, moulded and cast. Adapted objects into pretentious sculptural forms in a desperate attempt to become a proper artist. If only I knew what I wanted to say!
At 18 I went to art college and dropped out before I even really began. I stopped drawing and spent the next 30 years making everything from intricate Christmas cards to fully decorated and curated rooms. I took pottery courses and taught myself basic photoshop, paper making, soft toy design. But I could never let go of that gnawing feeling that I wanted to be an 'Artist'. Could be an artist, if only I took the right course, didn't work full time, knew what my art form was, my style, my message and learn the secret of how to be an artist!
Looking back I now see that trying to solve these problems in my head was actually what was stopping me from being an artist. For me the thinking was getting in the way of what was actually needed, what was actually the top secret formula for how to become an artist. Doing. And if I could shout back to the 18 year old me about how to 'become' an artist, I'd scream that it is not about becoming anything but simply being and doing. Of course I wouldn't have heard this message no matter how loud it came through. I had to come to the realisation much later.
For me the magic, secret formula was to Stop thinking and start doing. Make something, anything. Explore and enjoy the process. Let go of any preconceptions about end results. Let go of labels and expectations. Do the work.
Phew! Easy right?
Even writing that it feels like when someone tells me to stop worrying or calm down when I'm in a fluster. So what if that fluster is of my own making, telling me to stop what's happening in my head does not work. (Neither does CBT but that's another story).
Changing a lifetime of thinking that being an artist is something almost mystical and out of reach is not simple. But neither is life, unless you break it down into some fundamentals. Breathing, eating and sleeping are all things we all do to live, though often not consciously or always particularly well. It occurs to me then, that if we can recognise we are living due to these fundamental functions even if we aren't always taking deep, relaxing breaths in pollution free air or eat nutritiously balanced (or even just regular) meals or sleeping the full "insert currently recommendation quota of" hours of sleep, then maybe we can stop making similar assumptions about what being an artist is. We can see that there is no 'becoming an artist'. If we make art we already are one. We could let go of the needing to become and concentrate all that energy on doing the work to grow and develop our art, put it out into the world if we so desire. Again, Easy right? Not quite.
For me it was a long and convoluted journey getting to this realisation and even now takes work to remember. But there was a starting point, a very distinct moment that I come back to again and again. And thankfully I have Lottie to remind me of it.
One day I sat down at my large table (perfect for being an artist at) surrounded by lots of lovely materials (perfect for being an artist with) with several hours of free time and perfect daylight. Surely this is what every artist dreams of, yes? Yet I was do so fed up with the whole becoming an artist thing that threw my hands in the air and said
"Stuff it. I quit".
I gave up trying to become an artist and decided I would just make whatever I wanted for the sheer hell of it. For that moment I stopped worrying and thinking and played with my materials. I let my curiosity and enjoyment take over. As a result, Lottie was born and one way or another I can trace back virtually everything I have created since, to her.
It's been a long journey from there to here. Some of which I may share in the future. Through it I've learned above all that it is never about having the answers. It is about having curiosity and questions, the most important one for creating being "What if?".
What if I stop trying to solve all the problems in my head?
What if I play with the materials on my table?
What if I add this to that or mix these colours?
What if I try to make friends with grey?
What if I illustrate my own poems?
Then answering all my questions by doing. Do the work.
I quite recently became aware of the life and work of Corita Kent (aka Sister Corita Mary, artist, educator, and advocate for social justice) who in the 1960's worked with students to "reimagine what a learning environment could be". Out of this came the Immaculate Heart College Art Department Rules or “Ten Rules” as they are often refereed to. I come back to them time and again and recommend them to people on a regular basis.
Rule No. 7 is particularly relevant in the context of this post (although it could be said all the rules are). It declares that "The only rule is work" followed by a very short explanation, which I urge you to discover for yourself by visiting the Corita website here.
I know I can never have as many answers as I have questions. I firmly believe that this is the basis for a long and curious life. I will be regularly sharing many these here. Perhaps you will join me for some of them.
Till soon.
Jx