April 20, 2016
Does artistry always lead to anguish as is custom in much of our Society? I can't begin to tell you how much I appreciate this brief talk by Elizabeth Gilbert. In February, I was back in the saddle showing up for my job as she puts it. Everyday I woke early, did my household chores and then clocked in to work on either a design or fine art project. At first it was exhilarating. I had survived. I was BACK! You see when you've had a stroke and your body is left paralyzed, you can't talk, you can barely read, your whole existence seem to disappear at least the world as you knew it, but unfortunately you are left with enough memories of life before the stroke to tease and taunt you. Well, I was back, but only at half level. I was tired all the time, living on coffee and depressed as all get out. Could I chase my genie, that allusive fairy who kept teasing me with flights of creativity. Or was it all over? Had my life stopped in February 2014. Well, I want it known for the record, that it hasn't stopped. I am still showing up every day to do my job as an artist.
They say in physical therapy that you need to practice daily in order to retrain the neurons to get movement back. I hadn't been paralyzed, but my left arm is still very weak making typing a chore. Anyway, so that is what I did. I wanted to knit and crochet again. So everyday, I woke up and I did my work. A friend would cast on for me and then I would begin the journey of knitting. It was slow going and tedious at first. But I practiced and eventually those neurons reconnected and I could knit with ease and good tension. The same happened for my abilities to crochet and embroider. I think that my genie is merely a coach requiring me to show up at practice everyday come rain or sunshine and just do it! My first artwork after my stroke was The Social Networks and Stroke Recovery Art project. It was a collaboration with my neurologist and based on his research. It featured dozens of complicated crocheted mandalas. As the exhibition opening neared, I was freaking out. Not only did I have work to complete on it, but I felt the whole weight of the project on my shoulders. I first saw this video around that time and in response I made a paper door for my genie fairy. I taped it next to my art. I wanted her to have easy access to helping me. Could I physically pull off making the work was the first thing that terrified me, the other was feeling a responsibility for all other stroke patients and wanting to adequately represent their voices.
I look back at that time now and just shake my head at my silliness. So I think I need to make myself a wooden fairy door to place in my current studio as a reminder to not put so much pressure on myself. That level of stress is physically unbearable now and triggers a nasty chain of biological reactions. For most of March I walked around numb and scared witless as I tried to figure out the rest of my life until one day the genie appeared telling me that since the stroke caused a portion of my brain to die, I now have all this new space to cram in new learning. Think of how you clean out your closet only to fill it up with even more cool stuff. The thought was actually reassuring. Of course, I am not 16 preparing to launch myself into the world with full naivety. So, I am retreading by going over older ideas and seeing how relevant they are to me now while researching new ideas and techniques.
I think we put so much pressure on young people that they are to graduate from high school, go to college, graduate and get THE job. The same is for young artists, make your art, pay your dues and you too will be a success instead of teaching them that just showing up day after day to do your job is success and provides enjoyment in of itself.
What do you think? Do you agree that practice is the heart of the enjoyment or is it the thing once completed?
October 25, 2018
I’ve been slowly transferring relevant posts from my old blogging website to this website. It’s a bit of an editing process as much no longer seems relevant. But this post just caught me by the nose.
I spent most of the spring, summer and early fall getting ready for a show in New York. It was billed as an international art fair for artists without New York representation. Well, it was really a vanity show for emerging artists. Alas. Another lesson learned the hard way. But despite the disappointment, my genie had to have been lurking in the corner as the most fantastic random series of events happened. I took some time to go to a show at the Cooper Hewitt called Saturation: The Allure and Science of Color.. A friend had insisted that I needed to see it and I did. I fell in love with their interactive display.
And that is when my genie whispered in my ear (you love pattern Lindsay…..) I don’t know where this is taking me other than designing more for my Vida Shop. But then I walked down the street to the Guggenheim. Oh lawdy, my genie took out a sledge hammer and hit me in the head. There was the most stunning show of the work by Swedish artist, Himla af Klint. It was like I found my creative soul sister. I bought the show book and caught the subway back to my hotel when I felt the call to go to a book store. I am trying not to buy more books as I have so many. Anyway, in I went and the book Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert leapt out at me. I bought it and am reading it now. Her Ted talk is based on that book. And so now I am full circle. What exactly does it mean? I don’t really know, but I am super excited. It’s that sense that you are on the edge of your best work yet. Writing this I am getting goose bumps and wonder if I am a bit mad. And it all hinges around the word Joy. What is joy? What does joy look like? Gratitude for to be alive and healthy. Are you still with me? The feeling is one of just showing up everyday, sitting down in my studio and making without an agenda. Joy in the act of making? Yes. Certainly. But also looking to explore where my painting is going and how the hell does it fit in with my beadwork, knitting and love of pattern. Especially after seeing the work of Himl af Klint. The genie has spoken. More like roared.