“Be not the slave of your own past – plunge into the sublime seas,
dive deep and swim far.”
Ralph Waldo Emerson
It could almost be funny.
If it wasn’t quite so distressing.
It happens. Every single time. And I mean every single time.
Each time I start to create a new piece of art, I am absolutely stymied as to where to begin. I have absolutely no memory of how I made the other pieces.
I look back. I study the others. I dig up photos I took along the way, and still, it remains an absolute mystery as to how I achieved the finished product.
It’s like looking at a cake with no knowledge of how to bake. How does one possibly work the steps backward from that frosted concoction?
I have no idea.
I enter the room with a kind of quasi-vision of where I want this new Vancouver-inspired collage to go. But when I look at the canvas? I draw a complete blank.
Literally and metaphorically. Blank. Nada.
There is, of course, only one thing to do.
I pull on my big-girl panties and say, lookit darling, you have no clue, but then you never do…so just throw something at this canvas and we’ll see what happens.
I paste on some random bits of paper, arrange and spin them around. But still, it looks static and clean and not layered.
There is no depth, no distress, no ineffable wabi-sabi-ness, which is what I like about my other finished pieces…which were, apparently, created my aliens that took over my body and did it for me while I…while I did what exactly?
No idea. None.
It gets uglier as I keep going. It is not what I wanted but at least I’m doing something other than staring at the blank canvas. We might call this stage; ugly progress.
I keep layering and adding and then sanding it back and adding something else and guess what?
Slowly, a sort of physical remembering flickers awake. It’s really quite simple. Just like life, I have to keep building on what came before.
No matter what before looked like.
I simply have to keep learning as I go, and sometimes tell myself that, yes, that was kind of bad, but all you have to do is keep going.
And piece by piece something new comes from all that happened previously.
And maybe it’s not even close to what we initially imagined for our life art, but hey, this new version of things, although not quite the same as that original vision, has its own way of being beautiful.
Such is life. Such is art.
We take our broken pieces. We take the torn fragments. We mend and glue and and hold ourselves together and we just keep adding and building from wherever we are…right now.
And it behooves us to remember that we have undertaken to build a life/art with depth and that kind of work takes time and lots of mistakes and endless wrong turns. In fact, sometimes it’s quite a mess and all those ugly layers are often things you’d rather forget, but we build upon them because ultimately it is always more interesting than splashing about in the shallow end.
Let us leave the superficial and the shallows for those people who believe making a statement is about wearing the right brand of clothing.
We’re doing bigger things darlings…we’re building a life of depth.
Let us dive into the deep end.
“Either you decide to stay
in the shallow end of the pool
or you go out into the ocean.”
– Christopher Reeve
Yup–I resonate to all you are saying, Colleen. I call art my spiritual practice, and I mean that in every sense of the word.
P.S. Robert Burridge is a hoot, and one damn good art teacher. I have been following him for years.
Carol, I agree. Spiritual Practice: I hadn’t ever named it like that before, but you’re absolutely right and I’m going to call think of it in those terms because yes, both my writing and all things creative, are definitely my spiritual practice.
Love the post and those last two pieces of art are amazing. Those crows, wow and the Vancouver piece is absolutely incredible. That is absolutely Vancouver. If I could buy a print copy of that, I would. Thank you once again for such an inspiring post. I heard another quote around the same idea, ‘You can’t feel the exhilaration of the ocean if you are hanging onto the shore’. The idea of starting again and again in a state of humble ineptitude is so important to remember. And to carry on regardless. Blessings!
“The idea of starting again and again in a state of humble ineptitude is so important to remember.” Amen to that Mary.
It feels like an epiphany each and every time I ‘get’ it. Which hardly qualifies it as an epiphany if I can’t seem to hang on to the knowing.
I think it’s a lot like yoga and the need for beginner mind. I definitely am starting from scratch each time!
I’m glad you liked the Vancouver collage.
What an amazing post and I ADORE this piece of art. You should submit this post to medium.com!
Thanks Laurie. You were the encouraging nudge I needed. I just posted it to Medium.com. Keep collaging!
You summed up my process as well, agony and joy in the same moment. There is nothing that has taught me so much about myself and for if only for that reason alone i carry on. Great piece.
No kidding Barb. It sure makes me realize how much of my self-talk is rather detrimental. Yeeesh.
But just like writing, I’m learning to tell that negative voice to take a hike. She’s slowly learning to shut up and just let me be. Thank God for getting older.
Again!!! You say it so incredibly well, and…beautifully. Your heart and mind flow through your fingers. What a gift you have, Colleen!
Blessings Sophie. My heart always feels a little more expanded after hearing from you. You are so encouraging. I’m so glad we reconnected in Helsinki.
Love your artwork. Making order from chaos. My latest art inspiration is Bob Burridge, who has an effective, loose, and conceptual approach to all his incredible work. Enjoy his joy on YouTube.
“Making order from chaos.” Thank you for that statement. I hadn’t really thought of it in those exact terms but of course, that’s it. Thank you. Thank you too for the introduction to Bob Burridge. I took a quick look and know that I’ll be visiting often. Love his intro to his art ‘barn’ and his life. Very cool.