This month’s word update is yet another me-unpacking-my-personal-baggage kind of post. Actually, it’s turning out that this word . . . space . . . is leading to a lot of that kind of “unpacking” for me this year. Which isn’t really something I expected. (And I promise I’ll spare you the details.) But you gotta go with the flow, y’know?
Anyway.
October had me thinking about creativity. And art-making. And why I can’t call my “studio” a “studio” without using quotation marks. (Because . . . I’m not a real artist and a poser can’t have a “studio?”) And why I can’t call myself an artist (real or otherwise) — even WITH quotation marks. (Because . . . only artists can call themselves artists, and godknows I’m not an artist?)
Mostly, I was thinking about how these messages became so deeply ingrained in my head, my heart, my whole psyche. About how these messages don’t serve me in any way. About what a disservice I’ve done to myself because I’ve held on to them for so, so very long. And about how . . . damnit . . . I’ve wanted to be an artist for my entire life, but have held myself back from exploring and allowing it forever. (And, yes. This is where I’ll spare you the details of how that came to be and why I believed what I believed. Because I’m sure most of you can imagine it anyway.)
These last few weeks have been about . . . digging deep and trying to unpack some of that crap. So I can allow myself to . . . well. Be an artist.
I started by completely gutting and rearranging and organizing my “studio.” The fact that I have a space (Brian’s former bedroom) is a gift! The fact that there is a big window is also a gift. The fact that my work desk was nowhere near the window, though? That’s saying something about how worthy I thought of myself . . . as an artist (real or poser). So the very first thing I did was to rearrange everything . . . so my work desk could face the window. (See top photo in this post.) Because . . . if I’m going to BE an artist (real or poser), I need to – in fact deserve to – soak up any natural light available.
Then, I put a self-imposed moratorium on taking any technique classes. While I know that taking specific, focused watercolor technique classes have been very helpful for me, I’ve become overly dependent on them. And what’s happened to me as a result? I’ve lost my way! I’ve come to follow my instructors’ techniques and styles (and even their content and composition) at the expense of developing my OWN style. And worse? I’ve come to judge my work . . . based on how closely my finished work “matches” theirs. Such dangerous territory for someone with I’m-not-good-enough messages dancing in their brain.
So. No more technique classes! (A workshop once in a while? Fine. More open-ended, creative exploration classes? Good.) I need to give myself the (ahem) space to figure out my own art! I need to make mistakes. I need to take risks. I need to make messes. I need to allow myself to fail (however defined).
I’m giving myself . . . space.
And maybe I’ll find a style of my own.
Maybe I’ll become an artist . . . worthy of a “studio!” (Even one without quotation marks.)
Your life is already artful — waiting, just waiting, for you to make it art.
— Toni Morrison
I have a similar roadblock so I love hearing you puzzle it out. A window is such a gift. Enjoy it.
I have found that rearranging the furniture can open all sorts of opportunities… just the simple difference of moving physical things around can also move thoughts, ideas, and more around inside one’s head and heart.
I am here to say to that voice that says you are not… that you most definitely ARE an artist! And I am over here cheering you on every step of the way! XO
This is much more than “doing” your word; you are really unpacking, uncovering, and discovering layers within yourself. Declaring a moratorium on technique classes seems brave but a good thing to develop your technique and be able to call yourself an artist (which you are).
Cheering you on from the balcony! And you know, that really looks like an artist’s desk to ME!
One of my weaving mentors used the term: find your own vocabulary.
That was a helpful metaphor for me.
Oh yeah, you ARE an Artist Kym – in so many senses of the word. Actually, I think we all are in our own ways. I don’t paint or draw (I did write poetry once upon a time, but boy was that morose!! – high school and college years). I dabble in a lot of different things…no one thing to the exclusion of others. I love your desk and I love that it is in front of the window. Excellent move! (And…just sayin’…you don’t need a “studio” to be an artist. Space anywhere works – your garden could be your studio – because I think you are a garden Artist as well!)
Brava!!!
Imagine the voices I hear in my head…
I have a feeling that the messages you’ve internalized are the same ones I got as a child when I said I wanted to be an artist when I grow up. What the adults don’t tell you is that you can always be an artist, even if it’s not your job/how you make your living. I hope you’re realizing that now — and that you’ll feel comfortable dropping your quotation marks!
I call my ‘studio’ the craft room, although we call Tim’s pottery studio in the garage the ‘studio’. Hmmm….
I think that most artists, writers, composers, etc. start out copying someone else on their way to developing their own style. We all learn from each other, right? Of course, it’s usually a good thing to experiment and spread your wings, right? And now that you have your own SPACE in the way that you want it, you might feel more freedom to do so. Do what you want and have fun. I love your work.
You are one of the most creative (therefore ARTISTIC) people I know! And I understand the messages those art teachers sent our way…urgghhh. Studio away my friend…you rock!
I most definitely consider you to be an artist but I know that ME saying that doesn’t mean anything. YOU have to be ready to say it and it sounds like you’re taking the right steps to get there. Honestly, you are talented and amazing. As for the studio bit, I call my room where I keep my yarn and art supplies and such my studio. Mostly it’s because I loathe the term “craft room” but also because studio makes it feel more serious. Or something. I hope you know what I mean.
This IS related, so please stick with me! Growing up, I was told I’m not meant to be _______ about several things and by various adults (but never my parents, bless them). The one I prove to myself over and over is my lack of a green thumb. As I look at the pictures from your garden, I ask myself how I can manage to kill even easy-to-grow houseplants. Like my current, suffering spider plant, now down to just one of its original five clusters within the pot. After reading the recent article in The Washington Post about low light houseplants, I’m hopeful I may have saved what’s left of the little thing. My house is light-filled. To me my house is light-filled. But not to a light-starved plant. I believe my spider plant was too far from a window, even though it didn’t seem so to me. So I moved it, and I’m already seeing positive signs. Fingers crossed. My point is: All living things need the space and the light that’s best for them. May you and my spider plant thrive in your new spaces.
That window in your studio … I can only imagine how GOOD it must feel to sit at that desk and BE the artist you clearly are. (no quotation marks!) Also, delighted with how that one LITTLE 😉 word keeps showing up (in no small part because of the effort you are putting into it … still …)! Thank you for sharing another bit of your journey with us!
The window and the desk – are those of an artist. I have many of the same sentiments about calling myself a writer and what to call the room where I write. Reading about your journey inspires me to reflect on my own. You are an inspiring artist.
Sign up for those different classes with different teachers because….I took watercolor classes from a man while I lived in Germany. He was already pretty old in the 1980’s but I remember some of the stories he told of his youth and becoming an artist. His father (in late 1920’s early 1930’s) gave him some money to take a vacation. He took his paints. He was painting a house at one point and a man came up and said, “That’s my house. How much do you want for the painting?” He made a sale (which he had not been planning on doing.) And then the man showed his neighbors and they all wanted their house/farms painted, so he spent his ‘vacation’ doing so. When he got home from the trip he gave back to his father the money he had been given for the trip. His father was puzzled and asked, “Didn’t you go on a trip?” He told his father about making money from his paintings. He father told him that he would get him a teacher for a year and at the end of the year he would get him a different teacher and would do this ‘changing’ for several years, explaining that he should learn all he could from that year’s teacher, but the change would give him chances to learn what other teachers could teach him.
I’ve always thought his father had the right idea. Every teacher has something different to share with us and we are less likely to slavishly one style if exposed to several.
Oh gosh YES. I call my room a craft room, and myself a crafter for just the same reasons. And I should move my table to the window. Thank you
I was going to comment something like the Toni Morrisons quote. Your like — what I know about it — is already a work of art!
You are totally an artist worthy of her own studio. The first part of art must be creating the space you need for artistic endeavor. Give yourself permission to make that mess, to make that unique art, to play and to do you! You go girl!