2017 Resolution: Create a Ton of Mediocre Art

My goal for the year that lies ahead is to be a maker. A maker of maybe some nice pictures, but also a maker of very average, possibly even classifiably mediocre pictures, too.

Here’s the thing: I have been through intense phases in which I heaped massive amounts of pressure on myself to create. I have been my own  mean taskmaster and never saw myself as good enough… I never quite hit the mark, never quite achieved what I was expected myself to achieve in an artistic sense. And so I carried a huge sense of frustration and disappointment.

Even now, some days are full to the brim of my own personal frustrations because I know I can do more, do better. However, I have recently been so liberated from this way of thinking.

Two words for you: Big Magic. (The title of a book by Elizabeth Gilbert. But also, it feels like Elizabeth Gilbert has just given a different name to what I already felt, knew and experienced about the creative process and where inspiration comes from…so thanks to her, I now have a name to call that….’Big Magic.’).

This book is Elizabeth Gilbert’s take on creativity, design, and how and when ‘inspiration’ hits (hint: we as creatives are doomed if we sit around and wait for that!).

The title of this blog post is a stubborn, deliberate refusal to not reach for the highest goal of creating amazing art that can somehow support my life. Here’s why: I believe it is more important to make something, every day, even if it’s something small or seemingly insignificant, than it is to aim to make great things only. I mean sure, if my art turns out 'good' (also, what even is that? Everyone has different tastes.) I will be pleased, but if not, that is 100% great. I was part of the artistic process. I was in the game. I made. I loved.

“Through the mere act of creating something-anything-you might inadvertently produce work that is magnificent, eternal, or important. You might not, on the other hand. But if your calling is to make things, then you still have to make things in order to live out your highest creative potential-and also in order to remain sane.”
— Elizabeth Gilbert

The process of creating is what liberates us from the mundane parts of life, what gives us a sense of wonder, and what fulfils the desire we have to be makers. The final outcome of that process? Eh, an afterthought.

Too many people I know exclude themselves from the joyful process of making because in their own opinion, they aren’t talented enough, or can ‘only draw stick people’ (I get sad when people say that. Even if it were the case, there is a multitude of other ways to express your creativity. Baking! Sewing! Dancing! Writing! Stop telling yourself you aren’t one of the creative ones…in our own ways, we all are creative).

So as we go forth into the year that is to come, I for one am only placing upon myself the expectation to engage in the creative process. I would be happy within myself if I make a year’s supply of fairly un-sellable pieces, so that I can really get back to the love of the art itself and why I do what I do. If it’s about anything other than the process, I don’t think I can call myself an artist.

Here’s to a ton of mediocre art that has been created from a place of liberation and joy.

This ted talk doesn't directly relate to this blog post but is another perspective of creativity  by Elizabeth Gilbert which is also explored in Big Magic. She muses on the impossible things we expect from artists and geniuses -- and shares the radical idea that, instead of the rare person "being" a genius, all of us "have" a genius.

The Maintenance Man

One of the things I absolutely love about art is that sometimes things appear on the page that you didn't even realise were part of you...the blank paper sometimes teaches you more about your beliefs and who you actually are than any self-help seminar ever could.

Holy Maintenance Man Parts 1, 2 and 3. Original A5 sized watercolour and pen.

Holy Maintenance Man Parts 1, 2 and 3. Original A5 sized watercolour and pen.

Sometimes it takes me months or years later to look back on a piece of art and understand what it meant and what it was truly about (and I am the one who created it! Good luck everyone else lol).

This post is a reflection on one of those characters that started appearing in my artwork about three years ago. I just drew stuff and somehow kept drawing this little maintenance man on a ladder who was always just....there. Always with a can of paint and he was always adding finishing touches to the background of the drawing. The drawings were about my life, as usual, and never centered around this little guy but nevertheless there he kept appearing, through no planning of mine. It took me awhile to catch on to who I kept depicting but eventually (after maybe 2 years) I worked it out. 

I need to pre empt this by saying I am a Christian and believe in Jesus and naturally, like all parts of me, my faith filters through into my artwork.

The little maintenance man is my unconscious (well, now it's not- now I'm aware) depiction of the Holy Spirit- The part of God that is always there, always working, always part of my every experience.

I realise now this whole time I have been drawing out the character of God as I experience him in my life.

'The Mask Is Gently Put In The Bin' This artwork is about my unrelenting habit of wearing a mask to appear more brave, better, or acceptable to people. The Maintenance Man keeps gently reminding me that it's unnecessary, I don't need it, I shou…

'The Mask Is Gently Put In The Bin' 

This artwork is about my unrelenting habit of wearing a mask to appear more brave, better, or acceptable to people. The Maintenance Man keeps gently reminding me that it's unnecessary, I don't need it, I should throw it out.

He is unassuming- He never demands attention for being there. He continually paints the backdrop of my life- colouring in the parts I've left blank and am not equipped to colour in myself. He works hard. He alters the scenery from turbulent to calm. He paints peace with every brushstroke in the story of my life. Even when the artwork, and the life, is chaos...He is still there, patiently on his ladder, part of it all. I think it's rad that without me even deliberately doing it- God reveals himself to me through my own artwork. That's so...meta. 

Jesus said a cool thing: But the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach you all things and bring to your remembrance all that I have said to you. (John 14:26).

 

The point I suppose is this- Maybe he's doing the same for you- somewhere in your life- and you haven't realised it yet either. To me, he's a maintenance man. Maybe he's known by a different name in your life. 

'Two Worlds' 2013 original. This drawing was at a time in my life when I felt very much stuck in the middle of two worlds- childhood and adulthood. The left door is the playground of freedom I imaged the land of childhood to be. The door on the…

'Two Worlds' 2013 original. This drawing was at a time in my life when I felt very much stuck in the middle of two worlds- childhood and adulthood. The left door is the playground of freedom I imaged the land of childhood to be. The door on the right is the land of adulthood I perceived- worries about money- tall buildings in a world where I had to compromise who I was. This really, although I didn't know it- was my prayer out loud to God. And his answer back to me.

Staff show @ Percolator Gallery, Paddington + other musings

Hey Friends!

Here's what I've been up to:

I was part of a staff exhibition in early October where I sold the big guy in the image to the right! Art Shed Brisbane staff are all artists and our AMAZING bosses funded our own exhibition! It was really great to check out all my colleagues work as well and our customers came in support and it was super fun. 

I also went to Bali for a week and deliberately didn't write down a single thought or create a single piece of art. It was a little bit excruciating because art is literally part of my daily routine but it was actually lovely to take a break from it! I feel like even just that one week break from art has helped me refocus a little and just give me a slightly fresher look at what I am doing. 

In other news, I am two assignments away from finishing off my Bachelor of Social Science!  This is exciting because hopefully I will next go on to study art therapy. But for now, I am totally going to keep applying what I have learned so far about human behaviour and creativity to my art practice and use it to connect to those of you who love art and are following my journey!

Have a lovely day! 

Lani.

This one is called 'the Thread of Reality' and SOLD at the show in early October

This one is called 'the Thread of Reality' and SOLD at the show in early October

Kintsugi: To Repair With Gold

Last week I had the coolest opportunity to speak at Life and Mercy Christian Fellowship at Holland Park.

I went as part of a little team from my church (Alive Church) and spoke with the women at Life and Mercy. 

The topic was self esteem, and I shared my drawings and spoke about the art technique of Kintsugi. 

Kintsugi is a Japanese art form and philosophy that sees the cracks and flaws in pottery (and people) as part of the history of the pot (or person) and adding value to said object. 

The cracks are bound together with a laquer mixed with gold or silver. 

I spoke about how we are like this pottery and the choice is ours as to how we view and understand our flaws. 

Do we allow room for Jesus to bind us together again? Do we try to function in pieces? Do we try to hold ourselves together? 

I shared some of my own personal struggles with pride and wanting to be a self-sufficient vase but having to admit my need to be saved and my need to be restored.

Each lady got to keep a little rough hand drawn kintsugi pot to remind them of their value and worth.