It’s six in the morning and I am sitting in my studio. It’s a mess, and not in the creative fury of thoughts and action kind of way either. It’s wrecked in the dusty, disheveled –I didn’t know where to put these things so I stacked it on my dried out watercolor palette ‘cause it’s not like I’m using it anyway– kinda way. The atrophy of my creativity is painfully apparent.
When I’m working it’s understandable to not have creative energy after 12 hours of physical labor. Weekends between working days can also be a mad race to complete all the washing, cooking, and shopping for the busy week to come.
But I haven’t had a union gig for quite some time (as is the nature of the film industry). I tell myself that work will pick up soon and I should be take advantage of all the down time but somehow days and nights pass and I still manage to avoid just sitting in my studio. I’m always able to fabricate a list of other chores that needed attending; there are meals to prepare, laundry to catch up on, rooms to destroy with the pretense of “organizing”, and of course, plenty of shows to binge.
It is not about energy I have, or the chores I list that keeps me avoiding my studio. I have put so much pressure on the need to make something “good” that I haven’t actually enjoyed the process of drawing or painting in quite some time. My future feels like it hinges on my ability to create good work. It becomes overwhelming when each drawing or painting feels like it needs to be the piece that starts the portfolio collection that will jumpstart my career. I want very much to be a successful Artist, able to sustain myself fiscally with what I produce, spending my days making and creating. I find it difficult to just start a piece with all the self-imposed expectations looming overhead. I know I am going to have to set aside my trepidation and embrace works that won’t be up to snuff. There will be a lot of bad and mediocre pieces while learning to make great ones.
So these are my first steps toward learning to accept failure as an instructor and allow myself a reasonable pace to discover who I am as an artist. There isn’t really a straightforward life model for growing into what I want to become. As I chart my own path in making creativity a career I’ll share my process and everything else in between that sustains and inspires me, here in the Den of Leaves.