Introducing light into my landscapes has helped sustain me when the world appears to be mired in darkness and destruction. Working with tree images is grounding; their roots deep in the ground, leaves dancing in the light. They inspire me to bring a lightness of being into my creative offerings..
The creative process can be addictive and like any addiction has its highs and lows. Yet turning up for yourself in small ways eventually gives you ‘something to write home about’ even if it is only that you made something for yourself to enjoy.
How do you connect with your creative self? Sometimes it can feel like you’re always chasing elusive butterflies, trying to make works that you love and that resonate. Spending time regularly with your materials means ideas are more likely to suggest themselves. But it might take stubborn doggedness to keep going.
Success is when your next project springboards off the work you’re currently making. After resolving the niggling doubts that your work would never quite ‘make the grade’, you can pause to look back on what you have achieved. Then it’s time to ‘move the goalposts’ and make new work that propels you forward again.
Experimenting can often feel like a waste of time, especially when nothing quite works out like you had hoped. Pushing your materials past their limitations can end up with a total mess. Somewhere in all the chaos there may be a glimpse of a new direction to take. Then you know that all those perceived ‘failures’ were never a waste of time.
It can be challenging to occupy a space temporarily and create a sense of home. Even more challenging to return home and realise that your old space no longer ‘fits’. Harnessing the energy of homecoming can facilitate growth, experimentation and expansion.
Adapt, experiment and survive. That’s my motto, especially when it comes to artist residencies where the unforeseen can completely derail your best laid plans. Getting sick when away from home can be very debilitating. Yet it can also give you the impetus to adapt and experiment, abandoning all measure of control, sometimes with surprising results.
Experimentation is about taking risks. Pursuing a train of thought and organising the steps to get there gives you a better chance of success, even allowing for some ‘failures’ along the way. My blueprint for success is to plan, execute then let go of any expectations. It ‘s how I can adapt and improvise when at an artist residency.
Reconnaissance is a way to ‘hit the ground running’ when you are about to embark on an artist residency. I’ve been taking preliminary photos of the Moonah trees at Point Nepean National Park to see what the pictures suggest. This has led me to consider gridding up an image of the trees dancing together which I can then draw and print over as cyanotypes.
When is it time to wave your own white flag, to surrender to circumstances beyond your control? I’ve been sick all week which has meant a surrendering of sorts, learning from the lessons of letting go and prioritising what is essential. It had me thinking about red flags and white. When and what to fight for and/or when to surrender.
Hanging onto ideas of how to draw can keep you in a strait jacket. It’s often the way we are judged as a child; if you can draw then you’ll make a good artist. If not, forget it. Leaning to scribble and muck around is a constant challenge. That’s where a drawing group can help you dare to draw. This has a flow on effect in your ability to embrace imperfection.
How do you archive your creative oeuvre? I’ve been writing weekly blogposts since 2019 and have decided to create a series of books for each of the last 6 years. It seemed like a really daunting task but once I got started the momentum kicked in. It’s about making a start and committing to the project.
Long held beliefs about your own problem solving abilities can hold you back from experimenting and moving forward. I’ve discovered that instead of meeting the problem ‘head on’, it’s easier to go around the edges of things, whittling away until a solution presents itself. Like cutting with scissors to create silhouette shapes for collage.
I’ve been calming my turbulent thoughts with colour experiments to create a series of paste papers. The colours reminded me of the earth, of the bark of trees and how trees form communities the same as humans do. All hues, shapes and colours depending on where we grow, how we put down our roots, how we are all connected by the blessing of this earth.
Art activism is my way of maintaining optimism in the face of adversity. So many calamities are happening in the world I often feel overwhelmed and powerless. That’s where small grass roots projects like The Postcard Project – Finding Hope’ is a way I can add my artistic voice to keep hope alive.
Art has a way of revealing larger truths. I’ve been using a technique of conceal and reveal on some new artworks which has led me to think about how this reflects the state of world matters; political, environmental and humanitarian. I’ve become an excavator, discovering what stands out amongst the busy-ness of visual stimulation.
Where to begin and how will your creative story progress? I’ve found it easier to start new artworks from the ‘seed activators’ of works you have already made and liked. It’s similar to following a story structure, the ‘once upon a time’ that ushers in a magical engagement with the imagination.
Artist books sit outside conventional artwork definitions. They can be 3D or 2D artworks, they can have a traditional book structure or look like a strange sculpture made from a variety of materials including melting ice. One thing they have in common is that they are acts of resistance.
How do you birth the future you want to see? For me it started with painting goats. Not any old goats, but my British Alpine goats we had in Victoria. They were my ticket to change my world from where I was then to where I am now. Becoming an architect of your world starts with a vision and builds from there.
What to do when you are feeling overwhelmed? When your art (and life) are feeling stalled by the chaos of the world and you can’t find your way into creating joyfully. It’s times like this that I reach into my store of visual memories, like the image of bunting strung between the houses in a Mexican village. Colour and movement can provide the spark to keep hope alive.
