I would like to direct you back to a post from February. Actually, there are a couple of posts you can look at that touch on this slight fit I went through. Maybe you'll just recall from having seen them and thinking "Sarah, honey pants... what are you doing?"
For a few weeks, I thought painting on tea bags was just going to be the biggest breakthrough for me since learning to walk. I was having a BLAST. Drip paint on the filter paper from a dried tea bag, use the shapes that makes to suggest little scenes or images, or just paint them outright, then stitch the tea bag to a piece of watercolor paper... I was obviously genius. I thought it was a supremely unique, interesting concept that people were going to lose their minds over. I was going to be a millionaire...no, BILLIONnaire! (Okay, I'm getting carried away... I thought one or two people might think it was kinda cool.)
For a few weeks, I thought painting on tea bags was just going to be the biggest breakthrough for me since learning to walk. I was having a BLAST. Drip paint on the filter paper from a dried tea bag, use the shapes that makes to suggest little scenes or images, or just paint them outright, then stitch the tea bag to a piece of watercolor paper... I was obviously genius. I thought it was a supremely unique, interesting concept that people were going to lose their minds over. I was going to be a millionaire...no, BILLIONnaire! (Okay, I'm getting carried away... I thought one or two people might think it was kinda cool.)
But before long, my thread was put away, and I'd trashed my little pile of recycled filter paper (much to Paul's relief). And why? It wasn't that I didn't like the idea anymore, or that I had gotten bored with it. I'd invested HOURS into it up until then. But no, it wasn't that... it was that I thought I'd had a better idea.
I was gonna paint portraits for weddings! I mean, how cool would it be to have your place card at a table when you show up to someone's reception be a teensy little watercolor portrait of yourself?? (Upon further analysis of this idea, I've decided it would probably come off as just a tad bit creepy, so it's on to the next thing.)
How is it that I give up on these little ideas so easily? Is it too much reliance on encouragement from others? Is it that I'm just too flighty as a person? Is it that I've got a touch of ADD (which I wonder about sometimes -- still a possibility)? Why is it that one day I've hitched a ride on the Oil Paint Express to FineArtVille, and the next I've thrown myself onto the Illustration Helicopter to ComicLand?
I believe that it probably has to do, at least a little bit, with a lack of a mature approach to my art, which can be good and bad. So let me tell you more about how I'm dealing with this, and how being aware of this can help you in your own endeavors.
Ideas are great. It's awesome to have them. Sometimes they're ideas from internal sources (you wake up from that crazy dream and are suddenly obsessed with dragons for a week), and sometimes they're from external sources (you see a painting at a craft show, and you can't help but think, "Hey, I could do that...") Ideas keep you going, keep your brain cranking, and keep your life interesting. But sometimes they can seem contradictory. To go back to making it all about me (because, c'mon, what are we all really here for?), I often struggle with whether I'd prefer to try to make a bit of a name for myself (lolololololololol) in the world of more illustrative art or painting. I know that it is going to take YEARS of practice to get myself up to the level of skill at which I aspire to be able to work, but how where do I want to apply that practice?
It happens with ridiculous frequency to me, and I'm sure to anyone else who has ever felt a twinge of inspiration: you see something, and you think, "Hey, now, I could do that!" For me, I see a painting or an image, or even just a technique or medium used, and I'll get that spark. Maybe you love to cook, and you have an amazing dish at a restaurant that you want to recreate. Maybe traveling is what keeps you sane, and you see photos from a certain place that leave you suddenly just dying to go there. (This has happened to me as well - Paul and I are teasing with the idea of going on another trip in December. We had planned on going to New Orleans, but after our recent trip to Daytona Beach, I have been absolutely dying to get back to the ocean... it's a problem.) And my example there shows how this can cause issues. You'll be halfway down the road to accomplishing one goal, and now suddenly there's a competing interest.
There is a podcast that I've listened to recently which touched briefly on this, from a super enthusiastic artist named Jule Fei Fan-Balzer. In this podcast, (which, if you're interested in making art, you should listen to, as it's super fun to listen to and to hear about the techniques and approaches of others!) she interviews a jewelry artist named Linda Kaye-Moses, who is the one who brought this up. To paraphrase, she states that she will see pieces of jewelry and think of how much fun it would be to make something like that, but then she stops herself to ask, "Why?" I feel that this is an absolutely vital question.
The point isn't to ask yourself "why" in order to talk yourself out of trying new things; the point is to help yourself to understand what it is about that idea that you like. If you can pinpoint what aspect of this new idea it is that draws you into it, you will be able to incorporate that part of it into your own work, and THAT is how you create work that is truly unique to you.
For example, if you look back at those little filter paper paintings, I've decided that what I loved about them was the lack of control I had. When I'm painting, I have absolute control over where every little brushstroke goes, and as a result, it can feel sometimes like there's just a ridiculous amount of pressure. But to be able to stain a teabag and then add just a little bit of information to the shapes already there to insinuate a certain image is just amazing to me. They look so much more relaxed, airy, and pretty. So now I'm trying to figure out how to incorporate this into my other artwork.
The difference is that you shouldn't feel pressured to change everything about the way you make art, or cook, or travel, or dress, or converse, or whatever the case may be. You should just take a moment to consider what it is about that bit of inspiration that draws you, and incorporate that into what you already have.
And after awhile, your art (or recipes, or photo albums, etc.) will be a reflection of your journey through life.
Thanks!
Sarah
I was gonna paint portraits for weddings! I mean, how cool would it be to have your place card at a table when you show up to someone's reception be a teensy little watercolor portrait of yourself?? (Upon further analysis of this idea, I've decided it would probably come off as just a tad bit creepy, so it's on to the next thing.)
How is it that I give up on these little ideas so easily? Is it too much reliance on encouragement from others? Is it that I'm just too flighty as a person? Is it that I've got a touch of ADD (which I wonder about sometimes -- still a possibility)? Why is it that one day I've hitched a ride on the Oil Paint Express to FineArtVille, and the next I've thrown myself onto the Illustration Helicopter to ComicLand?
I believe that it probably has to do, at least a little bit, with a lack of a mature approach to my art, which can be good and bad. So let me tell you more about how I'm dealing with this, and how being aware of this can help you in your own endeavors.
Ideas are great. It's awesome to have them. Sometimes they're ideas from internal sources (you wake up from that crazy dream and are suddenly obsessed with dragons for a week), and sometimes they're from external sources (you see a painting at a craft show, and you can't help but think, "Hey, I could do that...") Ideas keep you going, keep your brain cranking, and keep your life interesting. But sometimes they can seem contradictory. To go back to making it all about me (because, c'mon, what are we all really here for?), I often struggle with whether I'd prefer to try to make a bit of a name for myself (lolololololololol) in the world of more illustrative art or painting. I know that it is going to take YEARS of practice to get myself up to the level of skill at which I aspire to be able to work, but how where do I want to apply that practice?
It happens with ridiculous frequency to me, and I'm sure to anyone else who has ever felt a twinge of inspiration: you see something, and you think, "Hey, now, I could do that!" For me, I see a painting or an image, or even just a technique or medium used, and I'll get that spark. Maybe you love to cook, and you have an amazing dish at a restaurant that you want to recreate. Maybe traveling is what keeps you sane, and you see photos from a certain place that leave you suddenly just dying to go there. (This has happened to me as well - Paul and I are teasing with the idea of going on another trip in December. We had planned on going to New Orleans, but after our recent trip to Daytona Beach, I have been absolutely dying to get back to the ocean... it's a problem.) And my example there shows how this can cause issues. You'll be halfway down the road to accomplishing one goal, and now suddenly there's a competing interest.
There is a podcast that I've listened to recently which touched briefly on this, from a super enthusiastic artist named Jule Fei Fan-Balzer. In this podcast, (which, if you're interested in making art, you should listen to, as it's super fun to listen to and to hear about the techniques and approaches of others!) she interviews a jewelry artist named Linda Kaye-Moses, who is the one who brought this up. To paraphrase, she states that she will see pieces of jewelry and think of how much fun it would be to make something like that, but then she stops herself to ask, "Why?" I feel that this is an absolutely vital question.
The point isn't to ask yourself "why" in order to talk yourself out of trying new things; the point is to help yourself to understand what it is about that idea that you like. If you can pinpoint what aspect of this new idea it is that draws you into it, you will be able to incorporate that part of it into your own work, and THAT is how you create work that is truly unique to you.
For example, if you look back at those little filter paper paintings, I've decided that what I loved about them was the lack of control I had. When I'm painting, I have absolute control over where every little brushstroke goes, and as a result, it can feel sometimes like there's just a ridiculous amount of pressure. But to be able to stain a teabag and then add just a little bit of information to the shapes already there to insinuate a certain image is just amazing to me. They look so much more relaxed, airy, and pretty. So now I'm trying to figure out how to incorporate this into my other artwork.
The difference is that you shouldn't feel pressured to change everything about the way you make art, or cook, or travel, or dress, or converse, or whatever the case may be. You should just take a moment to consider what it is about that bit of inspiration that draws you, and incorporate that into what you already have.
And after awhile, your art (or recipes, or photo albums, etc.) will be a reflection of your journey through life.
Thanks!
Sarah