Tag Archives: art

How lucky I am…

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Wednesday is Art Club day at school.

As 3.30pm approaches and I am preparing the room, moving tables and chairs, choosing music and building up to two hours of teaching, I am never quite sure what to expect and feel that delicious combination of nerves and excitement, reminding me that what I am about to do is both a challenge and something I love that means an awful lot for a number of reasons.

Some days, all goes well: I don’t lose my voice; great art is produced; everyone leaves with a smile.
Other days, I am faced with challenges: paint-splattered uniforms; lively mischief; tired, hungry kids.
And sometimes, I leave on a high: inspired by my students; proud of what has been achieved; thrilled by the possibilities.

Today was one of those days… an exhilarating day to remember.
Today, I walked out of school with a smile on my face, thinking HOW LUCKY I AM!
And as I walked, it struck me that some of the things that challenge me are also the things that excite me. I thought about the lively class; their voices raised in playful banter. I thought about the mess they made; the fun they had making it. I remembered the hug from the liveliest class member before he went home; his way of thanking me for the lesson he had so clearly enjoyed. I smiled as I thought about the conversation about art which I had shared with one of the students as he worked a little late, keen to finish what he had begun.

In class, as I tried to keep the volume down, my perspective shifted, in a moment, from frustration to elation… those were excited voices, the laughter and sounds I hear coming from my own children’s mouths as they anticipate some fun activity or outing.

As I tried to tame the mess, something changed in me and I chose to let it flow, to deal with it later, to let the experiments get a little out of hand… what else is art about if not pushing things further; taking things to the next level; playing freely with paint and paper and whatever else is at hand?

Watching the artworks unfold, I became more animated as I acknowledged that all that was happening was all that I wished for… the children were experimenting freely, playing, exploring, creating original works of art and feeling good about themselves, gaining confidence in their abilities and letting go of ideas of perfection.

How lucky I am…
To be working with a group of children who are lively, playful and open to new ideas.
How lucky I am…
To be learning from the children I am teaching; sharing my love of art and watching theirs grow.

Last week, on the boarded up wall of the classroom, we installed a hanging system – a simple hook and eye contraption on which I can display the work and cover the wall. Our art class is now becoming a gallery too… living with art is as important as creating it. I want these kids to share their art with pride.

I love to witness their first experiments with new techniques and see their joy as they realise they did well.
I love to see that pride as they spot one of their artworks on the gallery wall and show their parents what they have created.
I love to watch their eyes light up as I tell them how brilliant they are, how original, how creative.

I love art and it is a privilege to share it.

How lucky I am.


Mixing it up

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A beautiful day today.
An Autumn’s on its way day.
That magical mix of sun low in the brightest blue sky and a chill on my bare arms that makes me stand still just a little bit longer to enjoy the feeling. I watch the leaves; their movements somewhere between a slow-dance and a shimmy. Thoughts turn to warming soups, marsh mallows on sticks held over the fire and the comfort that big jumpers and snuggles on the sofa bring as the nights draw in and I feel a sense of excitement. A feeling of something in the air. A sense of wonder.

I have been drawing again lately. Pen and ink on paper, but no ordinary paper; instead that pages of old books. Their particular shade of not-quite-white appeals much more than the plain page. Much easier to start on something that has already been started… the words become the beginning of the work and the image flows from there. It is a 3-way process: the selection of the page; the choosing of the words to retain; the creation of the image around them.

I love drawing.
I also love taking photographs.
There is something about capturing a moment – the feeling of it – the essence of a memory that may otherwise slip away, but can so easily be sparked by just glancing at an image. Or taking the time to study it. It is something I do often – capture a moment and go back to it again and again, reliving the joy of something so special – and usually so simple – that I felt a desire to hold on to. It is therapeutic; uplifting.

And so, on Sunday, I felt the need to mix it up; to experiment; to see how I might be able to take the thing that I was trying to convey in my drawing and add another element to it. I started with the book page drawing; what it said; how it looked and tried to find a photograph that might suitably combine. After a number of unsuccessful experiments, I finally hit on one that (for me, at least) worked. It gave me that heart feeling of a moment like this morning’s in the sun. It captured something for me. It was not “perfect”, but I am glad to say I let go of the idea of perfect some time ago and to have something that I felt in my heart felt good enough.

It is my hope that little images like these might give heart moments to others. It does not happen in every exhibition I visit, nor do I feel it with every work I create, but once in a while, a work of art or piece of music stops me in my tracks as it captures something I cannot put into words. That is what I seek to create and share. That is what I strive for.

Thank you for taking the time to join me here.
If you like what you see, please share it on.

With love,
Julia x

 

Steal like an artist

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This evening, feeling creative, but a little unsure which direction to take, I watched Austin Kleon’s TEDx talk, Steal Like An Artist. Take ten minutes to do the same. It’s worth it!

So I took an old idea of my own, borrowed from his, stole a page from an old book and gathered a few other inspirations together in my head to create this…

May I suggest you go watch… and then go create…? You’ll be glad you did!

Awareness is the first step

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I realised something this evening: I have been working on my creative vision this week, but not on my art.

As soon as I became aware of this, I stopped what I was doing and made art. Just something small. A little postcard. A collage. I did not spend long. The distractions are a part of the bigger picture… small, but important steps towards a free-range career that allows me the liberty to create, inspire and spend time with my boys. But art remains the focus.

What mattered most this evening was that I did make time for my art. A while back, I would have let it slip. I would have acknowledged the importance of art, but I would also have told myself “you don’t have time,” or “it doesn’t matter, you can do it another day.” No more. The awareness that I had been putting my art off, led to immediately giving it top priority again. I did not make excuses, I just made art.

This evening, the Fear was not there.

Have you been putting off something that is really important to you?
What can you do right now, to change that… to give that thing priority again?

Fear of the unknown

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After my last post on Fear, I was faced with a dilemma this week. Small boy asked me to do something that scared me. It was a simple request: to go on the “big roundy roundy slide” with him at the indoor play centre. My first reaction was to say “no”, but then what would I be teaching him?

The “big roundy roundy slide” has always frightened me. I went on it once, reluctantly, with big boy some years back, but have actively avoided it ever since. However, having made a vow not to let Fear hold me back, I agreed to go with him.

It may seem silly to you, but sitting at the top of this slide, watching little children throw themselves fearlessly into a black hole over and over again, I wanted to know why I could not. I told small boy that I was feeling a little bit frightened and asked him why he did not want to go on his own. He was frightened too, he said, but unlike me, the idea of going on the “big roundy roundy slide” excited him as much as it frightened him and, most importantly, he wanted to overcome his Fear in order to experience the slide. How could I refuse? Small boy promised to keep me safe. I asked him to give me a moment. I told him that I would go with him, that we would keep each other safe, but that I needed a moment first.

So I sat there for a moment and tried to understand my Fear. In my head, I asked myself what I was feeling. It was Fear, but of what? Fear of the unknown; Fear of getting hurt. Those were the only excuses I could think of for not stepping up and sliding down. The feelings seemed silly to me, but also very real.

Would I go too fast? would I bump my head or my elbows on the way down? The only way to find out was to try it. So I sat small boy on my lap and we launched ourselves into the twisting tunnel of the slide. And we slid, very, very slowly downwards… until half way when we suddenly seemed to speed up for a moment before stopping somewhere short of the end. I had thought we would whizz down at a much faster speed. I thought we would twist and spin and bump heads and knees and elbows. I though we would come shooting out of the dark into daylight at the end of the tunnel. But no, all of my expectations were wrong.

The clothes I was wearing slowed us down. The drag of the plastic on my bare feet caused a small friction burn near my ankle, but the sense of achievement at having faced my fear and come out of it in one piece with a beaming small boy was worth it. And now? I wanted to go again. I wanted to show him (and myself) that I could do things I was scared of and that it was OK. I wanted to go faster. I wanted to enjoy the Fear. I wanted to beat it and turn the Fear into FUN! So, after a few deep breaths, we climbed up and we went again. I tried to push us faster, tried to keep my feet tucked in, tried to enjoy the ride. We went a little quicker this time. I knew what to expect, so the Fear was only of the known…  of hurting my foot. And I did hurt my foot again, but I promised him we would return another day, with socks and slippier clothes and that maybe we would both try going on our own next time.

So what did I learn that I could pass on to my boys? I was reminded that Fears often come down to expectations… we are afraid of what we think might happen… and that Fear can paralyse us. But these expectations are rarely realistic. If we put those expectations aside, the Fear has less power. If we embrace the unknown and look at what appears to be a frightening situation more as a finding out, rather than an expecting… approach it as an adventure and allow ourselves to become excited by the possibilities instead of being halted by the expectations, there is potential there. If we consider the Fear as an opportunity for growth, we give ourselves the chance of getting the most out of a situation.

So next time I am faced with the Fear, whether in relation to my creativity or any other area of life, I will ask myself: “What I can learn from this?”
I will try it and see how I can grow.

If you could embrace the Fear of creating and take yourself on an Art Adventure, what would you do? Where would you go? What would you learn? How could you grow?

No more excuses

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After yesterday’s post on The joy of painting, I received a comment which prompted me to think in more depth about why I had not started painting sooner.

“I guess it’s the outcome and what others think that might be a big part of the Fear that keeps people from painting.”

This Fear is something I have been talking about, thinking about, reading and writing about a lot lately. Fear plays the biggest part in what keeps us from being true to ourselves Fear stops us from doing things we would love to do; prevents us from moving forward. What if we could live life without this Fear?

Fear, of course, has its place. Fear stops us from doing stupid things; keeps us from harm.
But without Fear…? I think about all of the things I would have done long ago. I think of the all the things I have wanted to do and the excuses I have made for not doing them. We all do it. I know I am not alone. Maybe thinking about what I might have missed; considering some of the opportunities I let pass me by; wondering about some of the things I might have experienced or achieved had I been brave enough to take the leap will spur me on to push past the Fear next time I start making excuses. This may sound as though I have many regrets. I do not. I wonder, yes, but I do not regret… I have always made choices based on my circumstances, experiences and abilities at the time. Now, I choose to put the Fear away.

Painting is a big breakthrough for me. I had put it off for so long, confining my painted creations to postcard size, with a tiny palette of watercolours as my tools. I made excuses: I can’t paint because I don’t have the space; I can’t paint because I don’t have time; I can’t paint because… well I never actually said “I can’t paint because I’m afraid”, but I was. I was afraid that I would not like what I created; afraid that others would not like what I painted; afraid that I would feel like a failure if I tried and… well, failed. My mind was always filled with ideas when I was super-busy, but when I had a moment to myself, the ideas evaporated, or seemed ridiculous, too ambitious, or too boring.

The truth was that I was afraid to paint big. I was afraid to acknowledge how important art is to me and it was the very fact that it is so important was exactly what had kept me from doing it for so long. The excuses of no time, no space, no inspiration seem silly now that I am acknowledging the importance of art in my life. I can spend 20 mins painting instead of aimlessly trawling the internet before I go to bed… and that 20 mins often becomes half an hour. I can do a very large painting with very little space, just by taping a big sheet of paper to a flat wooden board or a wall. It does not matter if I do not have a fully formed idea of what I am doing before I start. In fact, it is better just to start without an idea.

 And it does not matter what emerges, what matters is that you are doing it!

If something is important to you, you can make time and space for it, however small that time or space may be… there is always a place for it.

So, I leave you today with my artist’s manifesto and I hope that you will create your own manifesto… a contract with yourself… a promise to do the things that are important to you and not let fear hold you back any longer.

Artist’s manifesto
Art is of great importance to me
I will make space in my life for art
I will live a multidimensional, colourful, creative life
I will explore every form of expression that interests me
I will no longer let Fear hold me back

Right, what else have I been putting off because I am afraid… and when can I start?

The joy of painting

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Brushes, paint, big paper, a pot of water, masking tape, a large piece of wood… these have been my necessary items this past week or so as I have been painting again. Painting big, painting happily, painting often, painting indoors, outdoors, in the morning, evening, late at night.

As the 30 Day Challenge drew to a close at the end of May, the need to create and post here on a daily basis became less urgent. The word “challenge” became less relevant. Finding little pockets of time to create became more natural. Art was becoming a habit again.

With the target of making and posting every day, there was a certain pressure to create. There was a pressure to think of something, pressure to do something, pressure to share it. Whilst that pressure meant that I was fulfilling my target, it also meant late nights, little sleep and what was produced was sometimes forced, not always natural, created from a “must do” rather than “want to”. But the great thing about that pressure was that it made me consider art on a daily basis. It forced me to make time to create. If pushed me into making space for art in my life. And that pressure worked. Now, free from the constraints of daily posting, I find that I want to create. I want to make time. I want to draw, paint, cut and collage. And so I do. The little opportunities to create are now more obvious to me. I seize these little moments to do what I can when I can. If I am out, I carry small paper and pen. If I am home, all that I need is close at hand. Waiting for my coffee to arrive at the café, I have a few moments to sketch a little scene. In that quiet hour after boys’ bedtime and before mine, I turn away from the computer, tape my new big paper to my wooden board and I paint. Art has become a habit. A good habit.

The thing that is missing now is my own voice. I am aware, looking back at the work created over the past couple of month, that there is no clear style to my work. I admire those artists who have a clear voice… a definite stamp of originality… a certain something that marks them out. I like to be able to look at a piece and say, “ah yes, that’s by…” and I am struggling to find my own voice.

No… struggling is not true. It does not feel like a struggle. At the moment, it feels like a journey. I am on a journey to find my own voice. Step by step. Some days, I have a clear idea of what to create… but these days are rare. Very rare. I have realised that this is a good thing. Letting go of expectations has freed me from disappointment at my inability to create on paper what I see clearly in my mind. When I come to a fresh piece of paper and just paint, there are no expectations, no pressure, just the pleasure of painting. And this is something I am loving more and more. I trust that I will one day find my painter’s voice. All in good time.

Feeling the need for a focus and the feeling (after 30 days being part of a 200-strong group of challengers), that I do not want to do this alone, I decided to embark on Connie Hozvicka’s online workshop Total Alignment. With Connie’s virtual hand-holding, video by video guiding you through the process of FEARLESS® painting, paiting without expectations, it’s like hearing my own voice. I am back to the teen-me, the fearless me, the one who just painted… the one who carried a notebook everywhere, who drew, wrote, created on a daily basis and yes, the one who got angry and frustrated, frightened and almost gave up… but then picked up that pen again, went back to the drawing board and drew… drew on the tube, in the street or the café, at home in the early hours… the one for whom art was a part of daily life.

The art I have created this past week or so is not what I would ever have had in mind. In years gone by, I may have hidden it away, thrown it even, but now I feel happy to share. I have posted it here because it is part of the process… another milestone along the path… another step in the right direction.

In painting without expectation, I am free to immerse myself in the process. In painting free from expecation, I am free to explore whatever I wish in any way I wish. In painting free from expectation, it does not matter what comes out. What matters for me now is the process… the feeling… that fabulous freedom of paper, paint, hand, brush… anything is possible.

And this is what I want to share.

This is what I LOVE:
I love taping a new piece of paper to my big piece of wood.
I love the sound of water gushing out of the tap and into the glass jar as I turn the tap on too fast.
I love holding the brush in my hand.
I love the look of those freshly squeezed colours on my palette.
I love the first brushstrokes, putting something, anything on the page.
I love going with the flow.
I love seeing what emerges.
I love the dance of my hand and my brush.
I love walking away.
I love coming back.
I love the fact that I am painting.
I love that I am loving painting.

I want you to feel this too… the joy of painting.
So try it.
Just try… and let me know how it goes.

Bank Holiday Art Days

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I have taken a few days off posting here, as a little break from the old computer screen was required following the last big push for the end of the 30DC. I needed to unplug, unwind, recharge. This does not mean that art has taken a back seat… oh no! When I feel the need to unwind and recharge, it is often a gallery that best enables me to do this.

On Saturday, I revisited Yayoi Kusama at Tate Modern. Only recently have I been taking the time to visit exhibitions again on a regular basis. I cannot remember the last time I had the luxury of re-visiting a show, but doing so with Kusama was worthwhile indeed. A month or two after my first visit, having now spent four weeks focusing on my own art, I was viewing with fresh eyes. Artist’s eyes. By the second room, I wanted to go home immediately and start making drawing, painting, layering. I was looking differently, seeing new things. Ideas and techniques popped out at me and I also noticed on second viewing how some of the pieces I have created over the last few weeks may have been (subconsciously) influenced by my first viewing of the show, or at least I was able to see connections… the manipulated self-portraits, collaged and layered works. I felt slightly odd about this, but the exhibition I saw on Monday removed any such feelings of embarrassment at having been inadvertently influenced by another artist.

Bank Holiday Monday began slowly at Dishoom near Leicester Square. Here, I started the day with the most delicious breakfast of granola and chai and drew (without looking at the paper) the table settings in front of me, pencil in hand, finished with pen.

I had half an hour to spare before meeting a friend to view the Turner exhibition at National Gallery and the friendly staff, speedy service and wonderful environment was the perfect start the morning with a sketch and a smile.

Turner Inspired: In the Light of Claude set the paintings of Turner (1775 – 1851) alongside those of Claude Lorrain (1604/5? – 1682), by whom he was greatly influenced (some say obsessed). Turner borrowed, or perhaps we should say copied (both the sketchbook and painted evidence forms the basis of the show) elements of composition as well as his treatment of light as subject from Claude. The Turners on show were not the works that immediately spring to mind when one thinks of the artist, but for a viewer, like myself, not at all familiar with Claude (and I was not the only one… indeed one lady on booking a ticket asked if the Claude referred to Monet!), this was an opportunity to experience the work of an artist previously unknown to me and discover how he had inspired one of Britain’s best-loved English Romantic painters.

At home, in response, I manipulated a self-portrait taken the previous night. The flash in the mirror suggested the sun of Turner’s paintings, so with a little adjustment in iPhoto, I attempted to highlight something of the glow reflected. Perhaps I will work further on this at a later date and add paint to the picture with Turner in mind.

Whilst I enjoyed the Turner exhibition, perhaps more engaging for me as the subject is one very close to my heart, was Jo Rhymer’s lunchtime talk Transforming the Thames. With the Jubilee River Pageant in mind, she took Canaletto’s painted celebration of The Thames on Lord Mayor’s Day as a starting point, Rhymer went on to explore how artists such as Turner, Monet, Sisley and Whistler took inspiration from river to create paintings that portrayed life beyond ordinary observations of the Thames. I was captivated by stories of Frost Fairs on the Thames which were illustrated by Luke Clenell’s images; moved by Rhymer’s reading from Whistler’s Ten o’clock lecture and delighted to be reminded of Alvin Langdon Coburn’s atmospheric photographs of London from c.1900-1909.

At home, I looked back on some of my own photographs of the river of which I am so fond and resolved to return soon at dawn or dusk and try to further capture something of whatever it is that draws me back again and again.

Apple rainbow, soup man and fabulous friends

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I am a little late posting tonight. I will miss my midnight deadline and missed posting yesterday as well. I am learning not to worry about the little things. I will do what I can when I can on this 30DC journey and remember why I embarked on the challenge in the first place… to bring the JOY of creativity back into my life. So… if it becomes anything less than a pleasure, I must stop.

Yesterday evening I had a good hour or so to focus on my art, but nothing was flowing, nothing became real. It was still fun, though slightly frustrating, so I just continued to play with no results to show, just a pile of images, arranged, rearranged and abandoned… put aside for the moment, to return to (or not) another day.

I no longer worry if I do not produce a finished piece at the end of each day, as long as I have made an effort to do something. This morning, smallest boy’s mind was thinking creatively as he sat with his healthy breakfast laid out on a plate in front of him. “Look Mum, it’s a rainbow,” he told me, looking at the way he had arranged the fruit in an arc on the edge of his plate.
The other food-related observation of the day came at lunch time when some of small son’s soup splattered onto the table. “Look Mum, it is a man and he has a bit of his arm missing.” I saw what he meant immediately. He is three. It made me smile and will be entered into my book of things my small son has done that made me smile“. I have such a book for my big son as well.
In downloading the photographs from my camera, I noticed that he had taken a sneaky photograph of me whilst I sat at the top of the stairs giving a friend advice on the phone about which art materials to buy for her son’s 8th Birthday, at the same time cooking up plans for future workshops in my head, the ideas flowing as we talked about easels and art boxes, brushes and paints.
I do love it when the boys pick up my camera and start snapping as I used to love doing with my own little camera as a kid. I love seeing things through their eyes, looking at the world from a different (usually lower) angle. I liked this picture as it captures the slightly chaotic, informal feel of our little home. I was pleased to see that he had taken a few pictures of his brother as well and tried his hand, once again, at self-portraiture.

This evening, three of my fabulous friends came over. We all have children of the same age, are all creative in our own separate ways, and once in a while find that getting together for a drink and a chat and a spot of making is just what we need. So tonight, the tea was flowing, the honey sweets and chocolates were consumed, the news was shared and the evening passed with each of us working on our own individual projects, inspiring each other to create and sharing life’s latest trials and triumphs. For me, this is one of the very best ways to spend an evening. Every artistic Mum should gather together a group of friends to share and create with… at least once a month. It is good for the art, good for the soul. There is no pressure. Sometimes one of us will make more tea than art or pass an hour of the evening flicking through a fascinating new craft magazine, but it does not matter… it is about being creative friends together, supporting and encouraging each other to do the things we love.

I was not sure what to do, so chose to play. Setting out with no outcome in mind seems to work better for me on some days than others. At times, when I have an idea in mind, know what I would like a piece to look like when completed, I feel disappointed by the result. The opposite can also be true… I can start out with no idea where I am going and end up producing something I had never envisaged and be pleased with the result.

Tonight, I played with cotton buds dipped in white ink, dancing them over black paper. After a couple of smaller patterned pieces, I worked on an A5 sheet, again drawing with white ink on a cotton bud, cutting wiggly lines from an old book, sticking them down, then drawing on top with a black wax crayon and adding some more wiggly lines of tissue paper to the piece. I was both surprised and happy with the result. It was like nothing I had ever created before, but I may one day attempt to make something similar again.

Practice, patience and perseverance

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There was a good feeling in the air today. I do not know if it was the promise of sunshine rather than rain, or the fact that the kids got dressed and out the door on time without too many asks, or maybe it was just heading off into town to meet people I love spending time with, knowing I would return home inspired made me smile.

My morning was spent with Sue Kreitzman at Spitalfields Market in East London. Sue is one of the most colourful, creative characters I know. She is a prolific artist and is in fact a walking work of art, always dressed up like a glorious painting, you can see heads turn to take her in. She is also one of the most supportive and generous of friends and I find her one of the most uplifting people to hang out with. When we meet, our animated conversation always revolves around art, whether it is a project we are collaborating on, an exhibition we have seen or some other thing.

Sue lives, breathes, wakes and sleeps art. Her home is crowded with a rich combination of her own paintings and sculptures mixed in with those she has collected over a long period. An obsessive collector and compulsive creator, Sue has a style which is joyfully, playfully kitsch.

I have wanted to interview artists for a long time, but for some reason, have never quite got round to making it happen, so I took the opportunity today to speak to Sue about her art. It was fascinating to hear her talking about her transformation from cookery writer to artist and how, being so abundantly creative, she finds at times that it is difficult to turn off the inspiration and just be.

There is something very powerful about being in the presence of such a strong creative force and whilst some of us are struggling to find time in the day and space in the house to draw/paint/sculpt, it is encouraging to see what really is possible given time and space and with materials close at hand.

This afternoon, I met with Lynne at the Royal Festival Hall. Lynne and I have been working on the Step Up 3 research project at Pallant House Gallery for almost a year now. We usually meet at the gallery, working in the library or studio there, but chose a change of location for our meeting today. There is something very refreshing about working in a public place, getting away from your normal workspace and immersing yourself in the life of the city whilst you work. Lynne is putting together a workshop pack on Jean Dubuffet and we discussed in detail, some of his methods as well as those of the Art Brut artists whose work he collected. We excitedly explored the possibilities of a number of ideas for practical workshops, talking about how different artists have created great works of art without using any traditional art materials and how it really is possible to create all manner of wonderful art from found objects and untraditional materials. Sue herself, makes her memory jugs from found and collected items and gives new life to old objects and Lynne was bursting with ideas to try on her upcoming visit to the Lake District, where she intends to travel without her art kit and make fresh work from the things she finds there.

So, as I pursue this mission to be creative daily, posting my first ever video interview on YouTube as my achievement today, I realise that if creativity is important to us, we can/will/must make room for it in our lives. There are no excuses for not doing something as opportunities to create and engage with our environment are all around us and no matter how small an amount of time we dedicate to our art at the moment, there will come a time, with practice, patience and perseverance, that we will do more.