Taking a break, waiting on a revival.
Once the burn out hits, you find how it offends your soul's essence to create. I felt this near the eve of my college capstone project. My fellow art seniors and I had just finished a year long, monstrous uphill crawl towards the light at the end of the tunnel, which was our Senior Exhibition. We would pour hours, days, months into the planning and execution of these unique endeavours. And the crème de la crème would be that final day we each would find ourselves at, where the work would sing “I am finished.” Though some of us wouldn’t hear this song until much later, once our pieces were on long awaited display for public spectacle and professional critique. Our four years would accumulate to this point in time, this capstone. An important accomplishment for each of us to remember, but also to humbly take with us and reach higher.
Walking away from the easel, I set my brushes down that March 26, 2019 and could not bring myself to pick them back up again until now. Sounds dramatic, but I needed a breather. I had pushed and revised and pushed some more on that body of work for almost a year. The largest body of work I have made to this day. Although the now remaining parts of it sit in my garage, I am reminded that art is still art no matter who sees it or if it hangs on a wall.
Don’t let “taking a break” fool you, I had been working my booty off since moving into a new post-grad season but I had not been working with oils. I tipped my toes in the waters of illustration, which really came out of nowhere. I illustrated two chapter books, designed and produced a magazine from scratch, and continued to work my “day time” job as the Director of Advancement and Media Relations for a local non-profit. Yet, something was still missing.
During this pandemic, I keep that reminder close as a motivator, whether I am showing in a museum or sitting somewhere sketching what I see - art is still art, and I just need to keep making art. What brought on this resurgence to pick up my brushes and paints again? There had been something missing in my work up to this point. I could not be satisfied. I have also been in a time of grief and mourning after the tremendous loss of my grandfather. It is hard to fathom words around this experience. There are times you know you need to be making, but there are also times that make you be still. When we experience grief, as artists and makers there is a beauty that comes from our emotion. I always hear the call back to the canvas, pencils, paper, whatever is close by to expel those elements back into my creative flow. That is my nature.
It took a few months to mull it over and an unexpected but wonderful conversation with one of my mentors to slap it back into me. I needed to paint again. I had to start painting again! Everything would come full circle. Do not expect to find your flow and it just comes naturally every time. But here we are again, a blank canvas and dirty brushes in hand - and it never felt so good.
