102209
the facts of (my)life.
i think i have been seriously deluding myself for the last several years. thinking that as soon as i had more time and fewer obligations and belongings, my creative powers would just explode.
ha.
not.
the girls have been gone for a long time. they don’t need (or want?) me. i still miss them terribly. i have minimized my belongings to practically nothing. and for the last 3 months i have had 2.5 “extra days” per week in the form of 4.5 day weekends Every Week. more time than i have had in 10 years. the poverty is actually worth that extra time (mostly).
and i am doing nothing. i AM nothing. i am flat. empty. no dreams or visions. no plans. sure. i’m peaceful (more or less). i have learned to Be Here Now. there are seconds of joy and contentment, but mostly - nothing.
i have been dragging around and storing a large assortment of canvasses in various sizes (up to 5′) for years now. because i want to paint. i LONG to paint. not THINGS. i can make pictures of THINGS with a camera. i want to paint light texture color layer etc. last week i was enlightened and inspired by a book i found by accident in the library Emily Mason The Fifth Element. WOW!!!!!!! i am not interested in that much color, but still … WOW! she speaks of working without intention and intuitively, spontaneously - “collaborating with chance while staying alert to the beauty of unintended consequences – painting “the way a bird sings.”” yes!
so last Thursday afternoon, i cleared the artTable off completely, pulled out some canvasses (not the big intimidating 5′ ones!) and my paints and gave myself permission to paint all weekend. it was HELL. it was TORTURE. I COULD NOT DO IT. i do not know how to paint. i do not know how to make marks. i don’t know how to layer. i don’t have anything to express or communicate because i am so empty inside. i didn’t know even what to do but make a big sucky mess and then take everything to the trash on Sunday. that is my experience in a nutshell. i don’t know if i will ever try again. maybe glopping paper scraps on a 4″ x 6″ recycled photograph is all i can do. which i am so bored of.
i am rather depressed. and so disappointed with myself. not just about the painting, but about my whole “creative (NOT) life”. i don’t really know what to do.
20091022 9:07 am
I’ve been there. Now I am not. That’s all I know.
(psilovethispicture)
20091022 9:09 am
thank you, dear.
i expect there is a way out. but i can’t see it. (yet?)
20091022 9:13 am
I love your work and think you should try again. I know it’s easier said than done but pick a time you are in a good mood and then go to it. Play some music and let the layers dry before putting another on. It’s fun doing several at once so you can stay busy. I am not the person to be giving advice but I really think it’s so fun for people to paint and would hate that anyone have a bad experience with it. Do you have a friend that could come over and paint with you at the same time? They don’t have to be an artist just a person willing to paint. Just a few ideas!
20091022 10:38 am
thanks and HI, amy. (-: i probably *will* try again. i always do. i did try working on several pieces at a time. you are right, it was much more frustrating not to be able to proceed, as one can with a collage. waiting was hard! i don’t really have very much community here. it would be more fun to work/play with someone else sometimes. thanks for your ideas!
20091022 11:21 am
one other thing. Don’t throw anything out. Just turn it to face the wall and leave it alone for a couple of weeks or even a month. Then, when you are past being emotional about it, turn it around and take a look. You obviously have an “eye” but you can let your emotions get in the way of it. When you turn them around you may find a new place to collage on top of or something to cut up and use differently, who knows?
Just don’t throw anything out!!!!
20091022 12:55 pm
A drastic/dramatic change-of-pace/change-of-scenery can often shake up the artistic doldrums. And when I say drastic, I mean drastic, more than just walking down a different street in your town for a few minutes. If you have the gas, I say get in the car and drive to a town where you have NEVER been, even if you have to drive for an hour or more. Take your camera. Take photographs ONLY of texture, or colour, of shape. NO MATTER HOW APPEALING, do NOT take photographs of anything you would recognize. No houses, no signs etc. And go by yourself, so you don’t feel you are inconveniencing anyone by your wanderings in the new surroundings. Then use those photos as inspiration for your work on canvas. Spend hours in the new town and surrounding area. Force yourself not to go home until you have. This type of creative exercise can only help, not hurt, a creative block. Good luck!! :-)
20091022 2:35 pm
jordi, thank you for your words. mostly i don’t throw things away but work a canvas over and over - it has been a long time since i actually THREW them away - like last weekend. they were just too depressing and glopped - really awful! but i won’t do it again! i promise!! (-:
lennie, this sounds like a GREAT exercise for me. sometimes i feel like i have seen and been everywhere around here and get so angry at myself for making the same pictures over and over (which it feels like lately, but i managed not to whine about *that* today anyway!) i will be in Kansas City this weekend, so maybe i will get a chance to try this… NO SHEDS OR GARAGES NO!!! thank you so much!
20091022 3:26 pm
Oh, I hear you, girl. I wonder if it’s partly our age. And partly our love of being moms of great girls. And partly not knowing what will come in this next half (or whatever) of our lives–who will we be?
I know that, for me, and I suspect for you, being a mom was so amazing and wonderful. I never once thought I’d be someone with empty-nest syndrome, because I had so many activities, hobbies and so on. I had a life. I just never realized how much my life was connected to being a mom–the parts that I loved the most about my life, at least. Now, well, I’m used to it (dang well better be with a 25 going on 26-year-old half-way across the country, about to be married and in medical school daughter!). But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss our life together.
Now who will I be? No need for the cozy cottage when there’s just me. No need to earn extra $ when there’s just me. Sound familiar?
I hope I will find my path one of these days. It’s why I stay in my job for now. I want to move toward something, not just away. If I’m giving up health insurance I need to have a dang good reason. ;-) I know you will find your path, too. Maybe Kansas City. Maybe Fredericksburg. Maybe prints will bloom into cards and a whole huge cobaltika industry.
Then you’ll need that cute cottage on the alley-way fringe.
You know, you might be tired of photographing things, but we are never tired of looking at your photos. They are lovely. Like you.
20091024 12:12 pm
Girl–you need a deadline! Nothing spurs up the creativity as a deadline. Take it from someone who knows. I spent my life writing fiction under deadlines. The minute I don’t have a deadline (or I don’t impose one upon myself), then I begin to fritter. I allow the internal judge to take over. Nothing’s ever good enough; I’ll never have another story inside of me; I’m doomed to boring repetition for my whole life. Not a good place to be. So, I set my deadline (which I prefer to call a lifeline) and I write. Might be a horrible mess, but might be a masterpiece. Try it! Denise
20091025 12:12 am
first of all… your photos are amazing. I am constantly enthralled with them. I don’t think you should give up on painting. Most things worth while take lots and lots of practice.
As to the depression… I completely understand. Just remember that it DOES pass. And in the meantime.. you have us :)
20091026 12:45 am
….sounds trite but — ‘this too shall pass’—not very helpful so….you are always
welcome to paint in my studio…..believe me you are already an artist. The photos
prove it…..you just need to become used to different tools.
Missy from the bayou
20091027 3:56 am
I think its Julia Cameron who warns against that vast bolts of time which we then become terrified of cutting into… I suspect though that your years of squeezing creativity in the change of pace and your girls moving on its all a huge upheaval. A bit of time to just savour - time - might be what you need. Afterall for years you must have felt very squeezed for time.
20091027 6:55 am
have you tried combining collage with the paint? it might be a bridge to later using just paint (if that’s really what you want). papers, fabric, whatever attached to the canvas gives the paints and glazes something to uh, “interact with.” the most interesting things can happen when you aren’t in total control. you could also maybe incorporate some of your small images in subtle ways.
anyway, “nevah, nevah give up!”
20091027 1:56 pm
wow everybody! thank you so much for your thoughts and comments! Jennifer, you are right, i think the age thing has something to do with the feelings of frustration & pressure. like … *when* is it going to happen *when* am i going to do it - if not NOW? Denise, right also - i used to be so much more productive when i had an open studio or show coming up. doing the Etsy thing is similar, but not the same - also i am tired of making only the small things to list there and i want to do BIGGER and BETTER - and try to do some shows again. someday?
Elaine, thanks! i mostly like my photos, too, but they are not the tactile thing i long to do. making stuff with my hands is so important…Missy, my mama says that same thing! i would love to come paint in your studio! especially if it is really on a bayou! (-: Mary, how true, sometimes i think a big block of time is just as awfully scary as a big blank canvas!!
Debra, i think that is what i really want to do, combine the two. but i keep making a big ugly mess of it! i’m sure i won’t give up. i’m much too stubborn. thank you!
20091029 8:39 pm
Hey Bobbi, We’re not all done here yet!
I feel for you totally. I always dreamt of being a painter. I always felt I was a painter. All my life. At art school, the painting tutor said I would never be a painter, that my work was too uptight, that I should pursue graphic design, or photography instead. He killed me dead. I still feel that pain. So I became a photographer AND a graphic designer, but still I wanted to paint, but was so fearful to. Because I sucked. I’d already been told so hadn’t I? I would be wasting my time. So I waited and waited. Then one day I got sick. So sick it took my career away, left me unable to do pretty much anything. Couldn’t hold a camera steady, couldn’t hold my eye steady to look through the viewfinder, even on a tripod. It pained me. So I gave up on photography. I stayed sick for years. Eventually, when I could sit up again, I decided to get well through painting. Not to make art, not to be a painter, but just to paint, as a way to get in touch with my feelings again, to feel productive. I painted, and it sucked. I painted some more, and it sucked some more. Everyone’s paintings were awesome, and mine just sucked. So I picked up grass and painted with that, sticks, anything, and ended up making abstract calligraphy. It was AWESOME. Well, it felt awesome. People loved it. I had a great blog going, all that shiz. But somewhere along the line, my confidence left me. I got well, through painting and calligraphy. Then, as soon as I was well enough, I picked up the camera again, the computer, and I got to where I am now. I’m happy with my photography, mostly. Well, a little uncomfortable, but that’s okay, that’s good. It’s good to be a little uncomfortable with it.
But do you know what, I still want to paint. Reading this? Just made me want to paint more. I feel like I know you so much more from reading this, and myself too. Where will I go with this? I don’t know. I too hoarded canvases, panels, boards, paper, paints, brushes, colours, a ridiculous amount of stuff. But you know, I couldn’t do it. So I sold the lot, packed my camera and laptop, and hit the road. Now I travel. I shoot pics. I have a business around that. I can feed my partner & I with it. I love the travel. But still I want to PAINT. My most successful stock image is a cobalt and ultramarine layered colourwashed acrylic abstract. Just that, nothing else. Less even than in a Rothko [my hero]. It sells and sells and sells. I don’t know why. But it makes me a little happy. But I’d rather see it 6′ x 4′ on the wall of a home, a restaurant or a hospital. Doing something.
There. I spilled. I hope it helps. It probably won’t, but if it’s any compensation, it helped me. It helped me realise that still I have to paint. Somehow.
I started building websites for artists a couple of years ago. Just so I could be around painters. So I could spend time with painters. It makes me feel right to be around them. Even at art school, where I studied photography , video and installations, I placed my studio space smack in the middle of a painting studio. Because it just felt right. All my life I’ve been trying to get to a place where it felt right. Maybe I never will? Maybe I will somehow, just paint. Even yesterday, I stumbled across a hidden art store here on Crete, where I’m living for three months. That ache came back up again. That ache to buy paint, paper, to make something physical instead of something digital. I’m working with Polaroid now, to get the painterly into my photography. Maybe all this feeds my photography, makes it all it is. Maybe it’s just a smokescreen.
I hope you will paint. I really do. I hope you will be brave enough to try again.
20091029 8:42 pm
PS: I LOVE your photographs and collages. They have something I rarely see in photography. You describe yourself as a naive photographer, but I think you’re so much more. If I had one to send you, I would send you a really special Polaroid camera, and a big stack of lovely smudgy smeary expired film to fill your fridge. I know you would make art with it. Maybe you should try that.
Hugs,
Blue.
20091030 11:17 am
WOW, BLUE!
thank you, your awesomeness! that was a wonderful (frustrating, that part, i understand) tale of your experience. i know i have followed your journal for many years and i remember those small paintings. i have loved following your path with you, wondering what amazing thing you will do next. i am going to be brave enough to paint again. i just know (i am contemplating this weekend, although i am managing to do everything BUT so far…). and if you love painting so, i hope you will also continue…
peace,
bobbi