What an intense couple of weeks. I’ve worked 14-16 hour days every single day. I launched Promoting Passion. It was insane. I got a much better response than I ever thought possible. Full disclosure, my goal was 200 sign-ups in the first week and 300 total. I got 600 in the first week. I’m flabbergasted.
But in addition to launching my event, crunch time came for a series I’m working on. I started working on it seriously 3 months ago. Nothing worked. I hated everything I shot, I didn’t feel connected to it. I was trying something really different and it didn’t resonate.
I tried changing ideas and forcing my way through it. I did this up until a week ago. I found myself up to my knees in mud with a heavy cobblers shoe shooting hundreds of pictures that I knew in my gut weren’t going to work. To boot (pun intended), I did the whole shoot with a drunk man yelling at me about how interesting I looked and how life is better naked. It was weird, and I was unhappy, and well, don’t I look it in this picture?
So a week ago I did something to change my circumstance. I scrapped the series as I knew it. I changed the theme slightly. I made myself sit down to a serious brainstorming session. And it worked.
By letting go of what I thought I had to do, I embraced a whole new vision. The ideas flowed effortlessly. I started to feel connected to my creativity again. And when I went out for that first shoot, I was so happy. I felt alive.
Every shoot since then has evoked the same feeling. I’ve been out shooting every single evening for a week. Experimenting. Attempting. Succeeding. Failing. I’ve managed to make four images this week for the series. Two of them I’m iffy on, but think will work out once I edit some more. Two of them are some of my favorite images I’ve ever made.
I’m ecstatic, through the roof, so happy for my creativity to be in full swing and embracing every day. Even though the days are long, and dinners have been late, and my Star Trek consumption and book are slightly neglected…I’m so happy.
I’ll debut the series in June in NYC. More details on that later.
I’m letting my voicemail do the talking for this one. Mostly because I’m stressed today. And I have too many things on my to-do list. And I need to go to the grocery store. And I’m hungry. And I want to watch Star Trek (Voyager).
See, I’m getting better at taking care of my entrepreneurial self. And I’m attempting to not write my 161st blog post. I only half succeeded there. If you listen, you’ll understand.
What is weird art? I think, maybe, there is art, and there is not art. Weird art is just art. That’s how it should be, in my opinion. The weirder the better. The more surprising, the more it feels like art.
I looked back through my images lately, and I noticed that I was freshly drawn to the weird stuff – the body morphing, the distortions, the Photo-shopped flesh. I wanted to belong to that type of weird art genre again.
I let it go because I became too aware of the art world and my position in it. I became savvy to the idea that I was creating weird art instead of just doing it. It became something separate from me.
I need to learn to attach to it again. Let it fill me. I need to do it no matter what, because weird art is the only art worth creating – for me.
This is just a musing on my need to get back to that place. Today it started by acknowledging what I’m currently drawn to in my own body of work. Tomorrow, maybe I’ll get out there and try to create with that inspiration again.
No, not try. I’ll just do it. Art doesn’t have to be good, after all. And, better if it’s not.
There was a long period of time when I felt like everything I made had to be amazing. Screw that.
I’m so far past that I think I might be going in the opposite direction. I liken it to choosing friends when you’re really young.
At first, you want everyone to be your friend. You have an insatiable desire to be liked. And you quickly learn what behaviors are widely accepted and which are not, so perhaps, you adopt the behaviors that reward you with praise.
And then you realize how exhausting it is to keep up that many friendships, and how unmanageable it is to spread yourself so thin. You start to get anxious over presenting yourself in the best way possible, and you worry that if your friends see you for who you are – imperfect – they won’t like you any more.
And some day, you rebel against that. You clean closet. You get rid of friends that don’t accept you for your weirdness and your flaws.
Well folks, here we are. I cleaned out my closet a while back. Since then, I’ve been sharing my failed images. I’ve been sharing the times when I hate creating, or nothing goes right. I’ve been sharing those moments of sheer panic, frustration, and anxiety. I share everything. Everything art-related, it’s all out there.
I’ve stopped caring if you (the broad You), think I’m a bad artist or a good one, or an artist at all. I don’t care if you hate my art, share my art, wish my art had never been made. I don’t care if you make fun of me, think I’m weird, or any other mundane, idiotic thing someone might think.
Because honestly, it is boring. And it is silly. And it’s not worth our time – mine or yours.
So if you’re here, it’s likely because you’re weird too. Because you accept me for who I am. Because we’re weirdos and we love it, and hey world, we don’t care.
Speaking of that long period of time where I did care what people thought, seeing as it took a while for me to be as empowered in my weirdness as I am now: I used to be ashamed when I made something that wasn’t great.
This new image I made the other day isn’t my best. But I love it. It satisfied a primal need to create. I wanted to make something where before there was nothing. One of the greatest and most interesting things about humans is our desire to play God – to create where once there was nothing. In so many ways. Artists are the obvious example.
So I made this thing. It’s a self-portrait covered in hands. I’ve done that before. I touch on this a lot in my voicemail. And when I finished it, I thought, “Hmph. It looks a lot like other images I’ve made. It’s not special. I shouldn’t share this.”
And then I realized what I just did. I just degraded something I made simply because it isn’t the most fresh and new thing. Simply because I thought YOU might be bored with it.
And when I say YOU, I mean the YOU of the Internet that steps on artists who don’t fit their vision. People who think that art is made for them, personally. People who get bored too easily because that’s the time we live in. And the people who don’t care how fulfilled an artist is by their own work.
That is not you, because you’re still reading this. (Well done, by the way. I ramble).
I loved making this picture. I love this picture. I love creating. Everytime. No matter the outcome.
I’m so glad that I’m intentionally making time for myself to create no matter what. No matter the whim or inspiration; no matter the hang-worthiness of it. No matter. No matter.
And that is what I wish you for you. To create without worry. To create because you must. To create because you feel a primal urge to make something out of nothing. To create, no matter what.
I need to explain some complexities of my personality to properly tell you where I’m going lately.
The first is that I spend a lot of time in introspection – in my head. I think A LOT. I stare a blank walls and papers, A LOT. I am not easily bored. All of that thinking leads to little discoveries that excite me and I love to experience those little excitements and surprises. And then, I condense those thoughts down to bite-size chunks, which I share in blurbs on social media.
As a result, you see the squished up version of my brain on a regular basis, if you watch my posts. But the implication of that is multi-tiered.
One – I come off as being very heady and connected to my deepest emotions at all times. I’m not.
Two – I don’t show you my…fun?…personality a lot. Fun is definitely the wrong word. I’ve literally never described myself that way. So…maybe…free-spirited? or restless? or disjointed? or laid-back? or…
In any case, three – Sharing those little blurbs means that I’m not sharing the works-in-progress – the thoughts that jumble up and make less sense and feel more and desire condensation but aren’t ready for that.
So, here I am. Journaling. Letting anyone who wants to be here into my brain in a less curated way. The result: voice memos, journal-style vlogging where I’ll share all the different types of creativity I’m up to, and more laid-back sharing of content no matter the genre.
I’ll share updates about my novel-writing process, the new photo series I’m working on (both of them!), my sculpture projects, and more.
What does more include? Well…hiking (where I location scout and find inspiration), reading (where I imaginary location scout and find inspiration), traveling ( where I dream location scout and find inspiration)…speaking of dreams, I’d love to tell you about mine. They’re terrifying. Nights are exciting in my house.
So, here we are in journal one.
And here’s what I’m feeling.
Anxious. Because, well…I want to be more vulnerable. But even that is a lesson and a chore, because it doesn’t always come easy. I’m a really private person and will remain that way in my personal life. So sometimes it’s hard to separate creativity from personal stuff. And sometimes that makes vulnerability hard. But it can work, and here I am, trying.
Fulfilled. Because I know that detailing my adventures in creativity and inspiration will bring me even more depth and inspiration.
Silly. Because…who wants to read this? Or rather, and more importantly, because I don’t care who reads it and I’m doing it anyway.
I’ve never journaled before. Never. Never had a written notebook of my thoughts (except for that summer I tried to impersonate Harriet the Spy). Never had an interest in remembering my days. Never had an interest in parsing through my thoughts that way.
To be honest, I think quick, I process easily, and I don’t lament the past.
But I want to push myself into new ways of exploring and connecting.
For context, here are some projects I’m working on:
I have a new body of work that will be displayed in New York in June. I’m knee-deep in preparations for that, but the snow has been keeping me from shooting a lot. I’m aiming for the first week of March when the snow is meant to be melted to dive in big time. I’ve been sourcing props from my local antique store and I’ve got very in-depth images planned. It’s a series about rebuilding humanity. I kind of love it. (a lot).
I’m working on a very personal series about grief and death that I’ve talked about a lot in these parts. No news of where it will debut or when. It’s constantly changing. But it’s so, so fun to shoot. Think paint and syrup and clay and dirt and everything wonderful in the world. And decay. Obviously.
Novel! Novel novel novel! Is that word starting to lose its meaning to you? ME TOO. I wrote my novel for four years, realized how bad it was, threw it away, and became a student of the craft of writing. I’ve read 70 books in the past 1.5 years and started from scratch writing a detailed outline. That’s getting edited RIGHT NOW, ya’ll!!!!
Art book, whaaaaat! That’s a long time coming. My first fine art coffee table book is coming out later this year. It’ll be a 256 page beauty of my work from the past decade that I can’t tell you any more about, yet. YET!
Promoting Passion Roadshow! For four years I’ve hosted the Promoting Passion Convention, and I decided this year to do mini Promoting Passion events in more cities so that more people could join in. I’m working hard on it right now, confirming cities/venues/guest speakers. It’s hard work, no kidding. I’ll tell you more about that next month.
I’ve had to put ceramics on the back burner lately because it is the least developed of my artforms and personal things have taken a front seat in that time slot. Maybe MAYBE more on that later.
In the spirit of this journal, let me tell you how I felt this past weekend:
Anxious beyond reason, because I haven’t been able to work on my new series much between travel, snow, and just plain indecision. I rarely suffer from indecision. WHAT EVEN IS THAT? So I was freaked out and frantically trying to find a solution. My solution: GO SHOOT EVERYTHING ALL AT ONCE RIGHT NOW. So I did. And it was terrible. Obviously. So my husband sat with me for 2 hours as we re-hashed the images and figured out a creation plan. Whew.
I also recognized my need to be in complete control. It’s a constant battle over here. First, because my sister was in the hospital having gallbladder surgery, I was desperate to go be with her. But, in all honesty, she didn’t want me hanging around her room while she was trying to sleep. So I had to take a step back. And that reminded me that I tend to be a bulldozer. I think I know what’s best and I trudge forward no matter the cost. So I took a step back and recognized that art often imitates life, and that I need to chill out and let things flow.
And in the coming week…
I’ve got a Sony Alpha Female retreat to attend (YAY and HORRIFYING). I am such a socially anxious person that even typing this made me breath really shallow and feel a shaking in my stomach. I kind of want to throw up. The thought of being in a group of women, no matter how inspiring, where I don’t get to be the unequivocal leader…is NOT my jam.
I am only comfortable in a group if I am the leader of it. It’s something I recognize about myself as a character flaw and as an asset. Right now, it is what it is. But I’m committing and showing up so that I can help the women there as much as possible…and even open myself to being helped, too.
See, I struggle with that immensely. I don’t like to be helped. I like to be in control, as I mentioned. So in any case, that’s the big issue of the week that I’m working through, and I’ll let you know how it goes next week.
What have been the highs and lows of the past week for you? What are you excited about this week?
Do you think this journaling thing is going to work for me? Do you like the voice memo?