Spring at last! We’re just getting into what I think must be my favorite time of year, even more so now that most of my hobbies usually involve plants in one way or another. The warmer days (Well, some of them are warm anyway. I say this as I look out the window to the snow-covered grass that’s only just beginning to turn) keeps pulling me outside to investigate the tiny green growing things making their way into view each day. We usually have fairly late and slow growing springs here, so it’s been nice to see some familiar faces (plant ones, that is) crop up already: henbit, speedwell, and one tiiiiny growth of shepherd’s purse are what I’ve seen so far. By May, the fields will be covered in pennycress and purple mustard, and my favorite: plains coreopsis. BUT I digress. This talk of foraging and observing actually tie in really nicely with this month’s post topic: just as I rambled a bit about experimentation in last month’s post, this time I want to talk about curiosity in the creative practice, whether that means pushing the borders of your artwork, following your emotions and interests, or investigating life outside of art. Essentially it’s what my chief struggles and victories have been about lately, keeping an open mind and breaking through unnecessary limitations I and I’m sure many others tend to put on ourselves. I feel like such a hypocrite trying to help guide others through a jungle I’m still stuck in, but these are just a few thoughts and opinions I’ve gathered and try to remember regularly. Even just knowing you’re not alone can be nice, so just know that you’re in good company here if you’re like me and go through a creative identity crisis every other day. That being said, let’s talk about it!
venturing outside the art cave
In order to stay inspired, we need to make room for it. Something I touched on in last month’s post was feeling guilty for giving your time and attention to anything this isn’t directly related to your creative practice, I’m going to repeat that a bit here. To draw inspiration from our lives and experiences, we’ve got to live life and create experiences. Making space for activities (or doing nothing!) that seem to have no direct connection to our work whatsoever can feed our creativity and inspiration in ways we didn’t even consider. Taking breaks when you’re able to can be more productive than hours of struggling through an art piece. Something I’ve been working on lately is allowing my mind and hands time to be a bit bored, if only for five or ten minutes, rather than being constantly occupied by creating or doing tasks. I’ve found that, in doing so, my mind wanders a bit more freely and interesting ideas arise organically. These tiny developments can often become the start or larger breakthroughs in the creative process.
When consistency becomes a limitation
In my own workflow I tend to be more on the stubborn side, I trip myself up because I can be unwilling to broaden my process horizon in terms of anything from substance to physical art tools. I get nervous to explore because “oh what if it changes my art too much? What if I—and everyone—don’t like my art anymore?” or often asking someone “I tried something new here, but does it still look like I drew it?” …. the answer to that last question is often yes, because ultimately, I do believe that what makes our work truly ours is rooted much deeper than we think. The process of creating art isn’t just going through the motions, but rather bringing bits of ourselves into something visual. I recently heard someone describe the act of making art as bridging the gap between what we’re feeling inwardly and the physical, visual world. That’s why authenticity is becoming much more important to me than a forced consistency. We as people can change, develop new interests and tastes, and so too may the art we put out into the world even in the most subtle ways. Especially in modern times where many artists thrive and build careers through social media, it can make creating art feel very performative, which isn’t a bad thing for everyone. But for some of us, it can become very limiting in the sense that we create a lot of pressure on ourselves to stay the same, stay consistent, create what’s expected or “on brand” for us. It’s easy to get caught up in it and lose our way. Lately, I’ve been challenging myself to incorporate different habits into my creative process. In some ways it’s a bit like picking off a bit of wallpaper and finding something new and unexpected underneath that’s secretly been there the whole time, and you’re slowly realizing “huh! I kinda like this a bit more than the old wallpaper”. It’s okay for your art to shift and change, either a little or entirely. What matters is where you’re creating from: is it other people’s expectations? Is it whatever you feel would be most popular? Or…are you creating from someplace deep and true to yourself. Someplace that brings forth real spark and inspiration on a personal level. That authenticity is what makes your art truly recognizable as your own. Sometimes a little soul-searching is needed to really get at the core of where you create from and what drives you. I often find my inspiration to be tied with childhood, distant memories and feelings, as well as experiences in nature.
Good what if’s vs harmful what if’s
This is the reason why honing a sense of curiosity has become so important to me as I sit at my desk to create. There’s no faster way to stamp out inspiration and simple joy of creating than getting stuck in the doubtful “what if” cycle. Instead, I try to replace doubt with curiosity what if. I try to embrace changes that may arise in my art with the spirit of experimentation rather than shooting it down. I broaden my scope of inspiration and follow any intriguing new rabbit holes that crop up along the way. As a result, I find that my art pieces end up taking on a life of their own, often having subtle differences what would normally make me think “it looks too different from my usual stuff!!!! No one will like it anymore!!!” when really, it’s likely not so glaringly noticeable through the eyes of a viewer. When I’m really able to get in the zone and stop overthinking (which isn’t often, but I’m working on it) I notice my creative process, when approached with an attitude of curiosity, doesn’t feel so stale to me. It reignites a sort of beginner’s enthusiasm. There’s nothing quite so exciting as trying something new and ending up loving it. It can be scary to try new things, new techniques, new tools, etc., but you never know for sure whether or not you’ll find something you like even better.
Despite this month’s post being a little repetitive and haphazard, I still hope that something said here was helpful to someone in one way or another. And with that, I hope you enjoy the start of spring and that it brings you lots of inspiration! Have a happy, rainshowery April!
Love, Taryn
favorite things
Breadmaking!!! I’ve made a babka or two and an odd challah here and there, but lately I’ve really gotten into it. Last month I made my first-ever focaccia (recipe from TwoCupsFlower!) and I honestly can’t remember the last time I’d enjoying baking something so much. I decorated her breadliness with sliced veggies and never felt so proud
the art of Nicholas Hely Hutchinson. SO beautiful!!!
Currant buns (from The Secret Garden Cookbook by Amy Cotler), I’d re-read the book recently and couldn’t stop thinking about Dickon’s mother’s currant buns so I finally tried making some. Highly recommend slapping some butter on one and having a nice wander outside.
Turning Red! I’m seeing a lotta mixed reviews on the film but I absolutely love it. I still watch it about once or twice a week, it’s become a new comfort film for sure.
Adorable comics by @annalaura_art on Instagram, particularly this one.
