Finding Joy in Slowness
Working through self doubt, overwhelm and self critisism in my art practice.
This week, I took three days off work to dedicate myself to creative projects that I haven't been able to fit into my usual schedule. Although I set high expectations for myself, I find myself feeling underwhelmed by my accomplishments as my art 'staycation' draws to a close. It's crucial for me to combat these feelings of inadequacy and overwhelm. I need to acknowledge the ebb and flow of my creativity, and figure out how to accommodate the rest of my life around my artistic pursuits.
Persisting in my artwork, even in the face of these challenges, can be extremely difficult. I constantly question whether my artistic endeavors are worthwhile. During my time off, I found myself feeling overwhelmed by the state of the world, particularly the distressing events in Palestine, the feeling impending doom in my own country, as well as my personal struggles to improve my circumstances and establish a stable footing in my life. I'm striving to avoid succumbing to despair and to keep pushing forward. Fortunately, I had an art therapy session scheduled in the middle of the week, which helped me find some peace with my current capacity for creative output.
I brought this painting to my art therapy session. This canvas had been relegated to the corner of my room, piled up with other canvases that left me dissatisfied. I stopped working on this piece last spring after investing several months of effort into it. For whatever reason, this painting evoked a sense of shame within me. As I was creating it, I was grappling with the themes, imagery, and natural style that consistently surfaced in my work. To me, this piece felt overly sweet, immature, and too playful. I yearned to create something with depth and resonance. Fortunately, my therapist reminded me that playfulness can be a virtue in and of itself and perhaps that is the expression I had to offer at that time.
This painting was feeling extremely overworked to me, so I decided to go in with some embroidery to enhance some of the details I was unhappy with. While I was unable to render the nest in paint, I used some metalic threads to bring more interest to this part of the painting.
Lately I find myself turning to arts that demand slowness. I’ve been teaching myself embroidery from books I got from the library, and it feels good to be new at something again. I want to rid my art practice of the joyless urgency that seeps in from the world outside. My art practice must remain a sacred space for play and imagination.
I’d love to hear from you in the comments: In what ways to reject this push for urgency in your art practice?
I love this painting! It looks like an explosion of color and joy. And what you're saying resonates so deeply with me, thanks for writing this. I use meditation as my main artistic director when I'm making things. It helps me slow down artistic urgency a lot, because my artistic soul doesn't care what I sell or how much I make, it just wants to work with a creative excitement and delight. After my second book came out I kept trying to come up with a new book idea to sell to make more money, but I had two children and was taking care of my mother and I was tired. I meditated to see what project wanted to come through and all I heard was, "Take a year and write like no one is ever going to read it." Then, "Draw cats!" I had never really done much drawing or watercoloring but I started and then gave myself a light, easy challenge of writing and illustrating one short cat story a month. It turned into such a wonderful practice! I still do this before I start working--I sit down, look inside, and see what wants to come out. I have never loved writing and drawing and making things more. Thank you for asking. And I really love the painting you're doing.
Oof. I can relate to this more than I want to. "I want to rid my art practice of the joyless urgency that seeps in from the world outside. My art practice must remain a sacred space for play and imagination." SO MUCH urgency and anxiety. I flow best when I can jump from one project and idea to another, making connections, dabbling, and riding the high of inspiraiton.
This definitely doesn't translate into being able to follow through with everything I want to or a more disciplined practice of enhanced productivity.
Eff it all, you know? Coming back to what feels GOOD and trusting the flow is a life-long journey for me and I'm so glad to encounter others on a similar path. 💗🙏