Let’s face it, we all live in our own happy bubble. Most of the time. We get used to what works and go with it, because why fix what ain’t broke? We get the same order from the coffee shop, cook the same meals, walk the same routes, wear the same outfits, talk to the same people, go to the same places on vacation.
And this isn’t just true with our normal day-to-day lives. As artists, we’ve also created our own creative bubbles. We choose the same color scheme, the same medium, the same surface, even the same spot next to the window to work. Same background music. Same subject matter. Same camera. Same brush.
I cared a lot more about going viral when I was in my 20s. I wanted to post that perfect photo, the perfect poem, the perfect Tweet. Even here on WordPress I was so invested in trying to get shared on Freshly Pressed that I had multiple blogs and would post to each of them every single day. Honestly, I don’t know how I did it. These days I can hardly post two blogs a month.
When I got into my 30s, life became less about “being a famous author” and more about being a decent human being. An authentic, decent human being. I think raising a daughter as strong-willed and stubborn as I am has knocked me down a few pegs. Motherhood has taught me that there are more important things than making it big.
My festive mood started before Halloween this year, which is weird for me because Halloween has always been my favorite. I usually go all out with the spooky decor in my front yard and the well-planned costumes. But this year I was ready for that cozy, glittery, festive time in which I could eat comfort foods, decorate cookies, and snooze by the blazing fireplace. Needless to say, when the jack-o-lanterns came down I was setting up my Christmas village and buying fire logs.
Inktober has always been a fun time for us artists. I’ve loved picking and choosing my own prompts from Jake Parker’s list and combining them with prompts from other artist lists. But there isn’t one designed for intuitive art–at least not one that I’ve seen. So last year I started Intuitober.
What is Intuitober?
Intuitober is just like Inktober, only instead of prompts to inspire illustrations, these prompts are designed to be more sensory, emotion-based, and/or vague enough to have multiple interpretations. This makes it easier to work intuitively/subconsciously. Last year the prompt list for Intuitober was short, with only six scribble-evoking words to use throughout the month. But this year I’ve made prompts for the entire month of October. Not only that, but I’ve gone beyond the sensory-provoking words and have also added songs and poems to inspire your daily scribble.
And, of course, because it is the spooky season, each prompt has a element of eerie.
I get it. You had an unsuccessful event, or an unsuccessful class, or zero luck in sales for over a month and now you’re wondering if it’s time to dust off the LinkedIn profile in order to help pay the bills. You’re wondering why you don’t just get a “real job.” You’re wondering where you went wrong.
First of all, you’re not a “bum” so stop calling yourself that. Lazy people don’t run their own businesses. You’re just an artist who hit her wan in the natural order of things.
Right now I’m in the wax moment of this natural order. My creativity is sky high, and classes have never been better. I just sold FOUR PAINTINGS at the solo show in Columbia and I’m excited to see if any more sell in the coming weeks. Two weeks from now you will be at the St. Louis Art in the Park, something that, two years ago, was a far-fetched dream written down in your journal. And from this weekend until November, you are booked solid with events.
I’m not telling you this to rub it in your face. I’m telling you this to prove that you are successful. A bad event or a small pause in sales does not equal failure. It’s normal. Part of being an artist is recognizing that.
I can almost hear your thoughts right now as you enter this five-hundredth existential crisis. You’re wondering if you should just switch over to photography full time or go back to illustration because “back when you did that everyone seemed to like it.” I’m here to tell you NO. You’ve gone through this cycle a billion times and you always wind up right where I am today: back doing scribbles and teaching intuitive art and re-normalizing the website from the discombobulated mess we made when we decided to go ahead and try those different paths.
Those paths have dead ends. They aren’t your career path. They are passions of yours, sure, and very fun at times. But that doesn’t mean you have to monetize them. Why can’t they just be passions? Because you’re good at them? You’re good at gluten-free baking, too, is it time to open your own bakery? No?
This is not the time to be making any rash decisions. It’s actually the time to take a break.
Take a week or two (or longer) to do things that are completely unrelated to art. Take the dog on hikes, play video games with the kiddo, go for a jog. TURN OFF THE PODCASTS and DELETE PINTEREST until you get back into your groove. Get back into learning French on Duolingo. Take naps. Find a new show to binge-watch. Clean. Your. House. Anything to get you out of your own head.
Most of all I want you to remember your why.
Today my mindset is this: I want the world to know more about the power of scribbling and what it can do for your mental health. I want to create art that touches others souls and gives them something to ponder over for years as it hangs on their wall. I want my work to hang in a museum and promote the joy of going back to that childlike mentality of process over product. I want to inspire others to know more about themselves, to meditate with a crayon, to keep their own wordless diary.
And right now your bio at your solo show says the following: I’m a big advocate for the whole “l’art pour l’art” mentality, or “art for art’s sake.” Creating art simply for the process of creating it, to enjoy the feel of the pen or brush or Apple pencil, brings forth a different kind of honesty I’m not able to express with words. Intuitive art has given me the opportunity to learn more about myself and where I fit in with the rest of the world. For me, each piece comes down to one question: what am I feeling right now? I ask this question to determine what medium to use, what colors, even what music to listen to while I work. This can lead to a variety of different pieces, each of them a window into my deepest identity.
I hope you will take these words into account and take my (your own) advice. You’d be doing yourself, and your art, a disservice if you don’t. Don’t forget the Tao philosophy, the yin-yang, that the night will soon turn to day, the ocean wave will gush back, that the roots will curl into a sprout. Find the lesson(s) in your current Yin phase so that you’ll be stronger when you get back to the Yang.
This is merely the belly of the whale, and the character always emerges from that, and always emerges evolved.
My solo show, which I’ve been calling “Hidden Feelings” has officially been hung at Central Bank of Boone County in Columbia, Missouri USA. If you live around the area, or happen to be passing through, I’d love it if you stopped by to check it out.
For those of you who are not in the area, and for those of you who would like a deeper understanding of the works hanging on the wall, I’ve put together this list of each piece and what inspired its creation.
This is PART TWO of that list. I highly encourage you to check out PART ONE so that you can learn more about the exhibit and its meaning, as well as the first ten pieces you will see as you walk through the show.
My solo show, which I’ve been calling “Hidden Feelings” has officially been hung at Central Bank of Boone County in Columbia, Missouri USA. If you live around the area, or happen to be passing through, I’d love it if you stopped by to check it out.
For those of you who are not in the area, and for those of you who would like a deeper understanding of the works hanging on the wall, I’ve put together this list of each piece and what inspired its creation.
Springtime as a kid was always one of the most exciting times for me. I can still taste the crisp air, can hear the robins singing their morning song. I remember always climbing the mulberry trees to check whether they had berries yet, remember plummeting down my aunt’s steep driveway on a big wheel, my only way of stopping being a nose-dive into a shallow trench. And the best days were the windy days, when you could practically chew on all the smells as I slipped in between the billowing bedsheets my mom had hung on the clothesline to dry.
Spring meant something to me then, and those vibes never changed.
So, when it began to feel like spring again a few weeks ago, I cleaned the house and opened the windows, bought candles that smelled of peach instead of pine, and I took Goo to the park almost every day, where I would feel the sun on my face and let the southern wind wake me up from hibernation.
That’s when the playground scribbles began, which were a combination of alcohol markers, colored pencils, watercolors, and charcoal. Allowing myself the freedom of as many tools and colors as I wanted brought back that childhood mentality when merely holding a fat crayon was a feat comparable to the Mona Lisa. Combining this medium freedom, the artistic naivety and the springlike weather, I came up with the Springtime Vibes collection.
These works are about the infant spring, when the trees are barely budding and the nests are still quiet and the seedlings only just begin to sprout. This is a delicate time for nature, in my opinion. It’s a transition period. Trees go from living death to living in a matter of weeks. The grass goes green. Tulips, daffodils, and Irises bloom. The whole process must take an exuberant amount of energy. An energy I worked to portray in my vigorous scribbling and bright colors, while also keeping the quiet, infant moments intact with light pencil marks.
The new series has eight pieces in all ranging in size from 5×7 inches to 19×24 inches. Each are works on different types of paper and were made with a variety of tools from alcohol markers to colored pencils.
I get a lot of questions about intuitive art, both online and in the classroom. Most of the time I have a prompt response that satisfies the question. Other times I give a half-hearted response because I need to think over it some more. Intuitive art is weird like that. Some days I have it figured out and the next day I have no idea what any of it means.
Now that I’ve had some time to think them through I figured I’d come on here and answer a few of these questions that I didn’t quite have the answer for at the time. I also have a few extra questions in there that were easier to respond to, but I felt deserved to be shared with you here.
There was a quote I heard several years ago on a podcast. I no longer remember the podcast or the host name/interviewee name (nor can I find it online—sorry) but the quote was “Paint what makes your heart hurt.”
Immediately after hearing the phrase I went to Pinterest to make a board of things that make my heart hurt. Rainy days, clothes on a windy line, quiet candlelight, crunchy autumn leaves…
But I realize today that those moments of heart-hurting are fleeting. I’m like a helium balloon, floating from one moment to the next, never able to hold onto certain emotions for long. I need something to anchor me down to that feeling, keep me immersed in the water for a bit, so to speak.
I have been in full experiment mode lately. What this means is I have been trying a ton of new things, filling sketchbooks with “let me see what this does” adventures, and scribbling without an end game. It sounds fun, but this isn’t always welcomed by my conscious thoughts. Mostly because when I’m experimenting my work is all over the place, and I start asking myself a ton of questions like…
What kind of artist am I?
Is this the kind of artist I want to be?
Would this even hang in a gallery?
Is my style shifting?
Do I even have a style?
Can I call myself a professional? Or am I just a hobbyist splashing around? A hobbyist who needs to get a real job..
Scribble Chai 