Thursday, January 16, 2020

Where the Music Came From: Working through Depression with Art

"Building Theologies of Metal and Earth", 10x10" mixed media on 1.5" wood cradle panel. Available.
There was a time in my life when I was a really unhappy person. Around that time, we had just discovered that even though I was able to produce one perfect little being, the process was something that could never be repeated. And because of issues with childcare, I was working part-time on an afternoon shift where I got very little sleep and even less social contact (with the exception of my son, who was a joy, but talking to an adult now and then may have helped my mental state). I also have an issue with chronic pain, and for a while that pain seemed pretty unbearable. That on it's own was pretty exhausting. Sleep deprived, feeling like crap, and being the primary care-giver to a young child left very little time or energy for the pursuit of things like art, so like a responsible adult, I put my paints away and settled in for a life centred around taking care of other people's needs.

After a few years of this... and the chronic exhaustion that came along for the ride, my doctor put me on an anti-depressant, sent me to a psychologist, and gave me a reading list of books that might help me out. I tried desperately to remember things I enjoyed... before. Music had been a huge part of my life up until all this had happened. I had played a couple instruments, and had recorded music playing all the time. I decided this would be a starting point, and from there I eventually found my way back to my art, and through a lot of trial and error, figured out a way to make it work within in the constraints of my life.

"Chasing the Gypsy", 16x20" Acrylic on Canvas. Available.
My series of musician and dancer paintings evolved naturally. I had started drawing again, and gotten into art journaling while listening to music. Learning to work intuitively, I found jazz led me to paint bright, happy images and made me feel better over all, so I continued with it until I found my groove. By the time the series was done (which consisted of about 50 paintings in all), I was pretty much back to my old self and excited about life again.

These days, whenever I feel like I just can't deal, I head into the studio. It has not only become a regular part of my life, it is the way I express everything. I have art journals and sketchbooks that I work in when I only have limited time, and I work on my larger pieces at least a couple times a week.

With everything that's been going lately, it feels like the world is on a path to self destruction. Between the fires in Australia and last week's events in Iran, it would be easy to slide into pessimism and darkness. One of my coworkers at my day job had people on that plane, so it's hit a bit close to home for me. Every one of us has been shaken up... it's been a little too easy to imagine what it would be like to be standing in her shoes. How does one even begin to support someone in that situation? It's so tragic... I imagine it will take her years to recover some semblance of normalcy, if she ever does.

There have been numerous studies focused around how creating helps people heal from trauma and loss.  I hope, eventually, my coworker finds her way to some kind of healing, and if I can help with that by giving a little creative guidance, I will.

Wednesday, January 1, 2020

Where to find Inspiration

"Between Deception and Truth", 8x10" mixed media on wood. Private Collection.

Anyone else find winter completely draining? I'm pretty sure my problem is the lack of light from the really short days. The freezing rain/snow/ice combination doesn't help, because even when i can get outside during the daylight hours, I don't want to. There were quite a few years where I would just kinda shut down during this time, and not paint at all. That just made the situation worse, so I don't do that anymore. Instead I bought myself a big-ass sunlamp and plunked it on my studio table, so when I work I can kinda feel like i'm sitting in the sun. It helps.

I remember when I set out to make the move from dabbler to professional artist I talked to a gallery curator about what they expected from their artists. He told me he expected new work on a regular basis, and a working professional painter should be producing around 50 paintings a year. I thought he was joking. At that time I don't think i had 50 paintings all together. It's been the better part of a decade now and I've done 40 or so a year for the last couple years. Most are small, but when I started my main concern was how the hell I would be able to come up with ideas for that many pieces, every single year???

I've found it's not as hard as you would think. Here are a few ideas that have helped me.

Work in a Series

If you have been following my work for a while, you will have noticed that I have different series. My musician/dancers totalled about 50 paintings and spread over a couple years. Then I did the portraits... there were 12 of those. When I moved on to the movement abstracts, I did one after another, each one taking an element from the one before. The landscapes numbered about 35 before I went back to abstract ( I'll go back to those, but not just yet). My 100 square project is 100! Even with these black and whites I'm now on about my 15th. I regularly have about 5 going at a time, usually in a similar colour scheme so I can switch from one to the other when I get stuck. As long as I have something "in progress", I'm good to go.

Carry A Notebook

I carry a notebook in my purse. I used to keep a sketchbook with me... sometimes I still do, but I what I found I used it for was mostly for jotting down things that came to mind while I was doing something else and not for actual sketching. The one I carry is quite small, about the size of my phone, that I got at the dollar store. I have pages of one word things like "butterflies", or "golden yellow and deep blue". Notes about some interesting thing I stumbled upon. And little line drawings that mean nothing to anyone else but get turned into abstract paintings. I know that if I'm ever stuck, I can get out this notebook, flip to a random page, and have somewhere to start. I've got a pile of them now, in a box in my closet. I keep them because every time I do a major clean and get to the box, I flip through them and re-discover things I had forgotten all about. It can send me off in an interesting, new direction.

Figure out what you like

You'd think this would be self explanatory, but it actually isn't that easy. I love abstract art, but not all abstract art. I like big spaces and loose lines and bright colours combined with neutrals. I also love realism but don't have the patience to do that. I tried it, and hated every minute. Everyone has a different thing that turns their crank... I have a photographer friend who focuses on macros of small natural details. That's her thing, and they are awesome. Her other stuff is good, but those detail shots are amazing. I know when i'm bored by my work it will always show and it's time to move on to the next thing. It may drive collectors crazy, but it keeps me interested.

Nurture your other interests

I like to read. I read everything... novels, history books, political magazines, whatever. I also like to go hiking, and I enjoy kayaking. Sometimes those other things work their way into my paintings one way or another. Many of my landscapes are based on places I've been during these excursions and have found inspiring. Even my abstracts are based on things I've discovered while i've been out in the world. Titles can be plucked from a book i'm reading or music i'm listening to . What I'm getting at is that painting does not exist in a vacuum. It is a reflection of the artist, and what I love about life will show up in my work. If I'm obsessed with Egyptian mythology, why would that not provide me some interesting inspiration for my painting? Likewise, if you've all but forgotten about the world around you, your work will eventually all start to feel the same. You've got to fill that inspirational well, or it might just run dry.

Hope this helps my artist friends out there. I think writing about stuff I wish i had know when i was starting my creative journey is an avenue I'm going to explore this year. I still sometimes figure things out and wonder how the hell I managed to be not know this thing after so many years in the art world. It's the "well, everyone knows that, right?" assumption... the answer is usually no.

I'm probably not going to go back to a weekly schedule on this blog.... I'll likely keep to a bi-weekly or monthly post. The break has done me good, but as the world has moved away from the blogging universe to podcasts and videos, there doesn't seem to be much need for me to add my voice here. I do post on social media pretty regularly though, so if you are interested in following what I'm doing that's always an option.

Hope everyone's 2019 ended on a lovely note. I'll see you more often in 2020. Here's to a new decade!