Recently in Thoughts About Creating Art Category
Tibetan monks make sculptures out of butter; Navajo medicine men make sand paintings which blow away. Do we think, "what a waste of time" or "what a waste that such a beautiful thing will be destroyed"? Do we think, "all that work for nothing"?
Are the things we create any different in the long scheme of eternity? Probably not. My children might keep my rosemaling. But it is highly unlikely that it my rosemaling will survive the changes of fashion to come in the next 100 years. And if fashion changes don’t devalue it, entropy certainly will! Is a piece of rosemaling that survives a hundred years any more permanent than a sand painting or a butter sculpture that lasts a day? In light of the vast ages of eternity, I say no.
Are the things we create any different in the long scheme of eternity? Probably not. My children might keep my rosemaling. But it is highly unlikely that it my rosemaling will survive the changes of fashion to come in the next 100 years. And if fashion changes don’t devalue it, entropy certainly will! Is a piece of rosemaling that survives a hundred years any more permanent than a sand painting or a butter sculpture that lasts a day? In light of the vast ages of eternity, I say no.
The warmer sunny weather, and impending lambing season is making me anxious for the snow to melt off. I'm longing for green things to start sprouting up. Right after Thanksgiving I decorated for Christmas. Along with all the Christmas decorations, I accented the great-room with red. I have red throws on the couch and loveseat, red patterned table clothes, red velvet table runners, and red candles. I have red glassware, and red toile china on display. My red amaryllis is about to bloom. All the rich red was delightful all the way through Valentines Day. Dare I say it gave the great-room a cozy womb feeling through the cold snowy winter? But now I am ready for spring! I'm making myself wait until after the Amaryllis has faded. But just as soon as it has, I'm putting away the red and bringing out the fresh new greens of spring, robin egg blues, sunny sky blues, and narcissus whites. I will put away my red glassware and red toile china and display my celadon pottery. The red candles will be replaced with white. The red patterned table clothes and velvet runners will be replaced with crisp white linen ones.
Spring-cleaning will of course come after the removal of the red and before the decorating with the fresh colors of spring. You knew that I'm sure. But I felt strangely uncomfortable until I put that down in writing!
Spring-cleaning will of course come after the removal of the red and before the decorating with the fresh colors of spring. You knew that I'm sure. But I felt strangely uncomfortable until I put that down in writing!
My Father is an atheist. He believes that everything that has happened in his life was because of the choices he made. He believes he created his success by himself through his own hard work.
He taught me, his daughter, the purpose of life is to be successful. He defined success for a women as: marry a college graduate with a bachelors in science or business. Complete your own college education in the field of nursing, teaching, or business. Support your husband’s career so that he can be successful. Live frugally. Buy a house. Put your children through college. Save for retirement.
This is flawed thinking is something I have been working on rooting out of my core values bit by bit. First, I believe GOD created me. I believe that GOD knew me before the foundation of the world. That GOD has prepared good works for me that I may walk in them.
It was wrong of my father to tell me my artistic talent was a worthless talent. It is God who has filled me with the wisdom, understanding, and knowledge to design artistic works. I believe that my artistic talent is a gift of GOD and that God uses each one according to his or her gifts. I believe our sole purpose on earth is to glorify God.
It was wrong of my father to direct me into a career path that I found difficult and draining because I had no gift for it
Success is NOT defined by marriage to a “good provider”, home ownership, and plump retirement account. Success is discovering the will of God for my life and doing it!
He taught me, his daughter, the purpose of life is to be successful. He defined success for a women as: marry a college graduate with a bachelors in science or business. Complete your own college education in the field of nursing, teaching, or business. Support your husband’s career so that he can be successful. Live frugally. Buy a house. Put your children through college. Save for retirement.
This is flawed thinking is something I have been working on rooting out of my core values bit by bit. First, I believe GOD created me. I believe that GOD knew me before the foundation of the world. That GOD has prepared good works for me that I may walk in them.
It was wrong of my father to tell me my artistic talent was a worthless talent. It is God who has filled me with the wisdom, understanding, and knowledge to design artistic works. I believe that my artistic talent is a gift of GOD and that God uses each one according to his or her gifts. I believe our sole purpose on earth is to glorify God.
It was wrong of my father to direct me into a career path that I found difficult and draining because I had no gift for it
Success is NOT defined by marriage to a “good provider”, home ownership, and plump retirement account. Success is discovering the will of God for my life and doing it!
Last night at AWANAS (a Christian Club for children) I was coloring with my five year old students. One of the little girls admired my coloring. I thanked her and I told her that I liked to paint flowers at home. She turned to me excitedly and said with her little face shinning up at me, "You could be an artist!"
It is nice to imagine she thought I looked too young to be a grown-up with a career; and that some day when I grew up I could be an artist.
Maybe grown ups don't color with crayons with five year olds?
It is nice to imagine she thought I looked too young to be a grown-up with a career; and that some day when I grew up I could be an artist.
Maybe grown ups don't color with crayons with five year olds?
I was raised to be very careful with money. I don’t want to waste anything. But as a consequence, I can be too chintzy with my materials. Some artists create wonderful works of lavish abundance. I love their work because it is something I am not able to do. I have bought special expensive materials, such as hand dyed French silk ribbon. But, I have felt no project of mine was ever good enough to use it on. I have temperately tied it around a hat. But, I didn’t cut it to just the right length or attach it permanently, because I might want it for a better project later. In fact, I have a whole stash of supplies I am saving to use “when I’m good enough”.
So, why aren’t I good enough to use expensive materials? I think it goes back to my parents message that "only a very few people in the world are gifted enough to be professional artists". According to my parents, only a select few artistic geniuses were good enough to major in art in college. And to my parents, I wasn't one. And so the message that plays in the back of my mind is, “Because your parents didn't think you were good enough to major in art, you aren’t talented enough to spend real money on your art."
Maybe that is one reason I love telemark rosemaling. It is so lavish and lush in its curves. The lavish free flowing scrolls are decorated with teardrops and tendrils in excess.
Now, I know that my parents message is not correct. There are many professional successful artists with the same amount of talent as I. And now I realize no matter how talented I was, my parents never would have approved of my majoring in art.
So, why aren’t I good enough to use expensive materials? I think it goes back to my parents message that "only a very few people in the world are gifted enough to be professional artists". According to my parents, only a select few artistic geniuses were good enough to major in art in college. And to my parents, I wasn't one. And so the message that plays in the back of my mind is, “Because your parents didn't think you were good enough to major in art, you aren’t talented enough to spend real money on your art."
Maybe that is one reason I love telemark rosemaling. It is so lavish and lush in its curves. The lavish free flowing scrolls are decorated with teardrops and tendrils in excess.
Now, I know that my parents message is not correct. There are many professional successful artists with the same amount of talent as I. And now I realize no matter how talented I was, my parents never would have approved of my majoring in art.
When I think back to my earliest memories of creating I remember making a little figure out of twigs to play with in my grandparent’s garden. I remember my sister and I used sticks and leaves and rocks to make houses for our little stick people.
I remember another time when the adults were pruning the shrubs we made costumes for ourselves out of leaves. At school, other children might be skipping rope, playing on the swings, but I found a place in the school field where someone’s garden grew over the school fence. I plucked leaves, twigs, and seedpods to make little pretend pets. I think I have always had an urge to create.
When I was about seven, my teacher used a whole stack of white construction paper to make me a book to draw in. I heard her tell my Mom “Your daughter is so talented.” I went home that day and I thought "I have to draw a really wonderful picture in this special book my teacher made for me". And I remember thinking it had to be the best picture I had ever drawn. So I drew a princess on a castle balcony, a prince on a horse, sword in hand fighting a dragon. Phew! When I was done I was pleased. I was exhausted after drawing the best picture ever! My picture brought lots of praise from my teacher. Then she said the fateful words. “I can’t wait to see what you draw tonight.” Uhgg! What could top a princess, a dragon, and a horse!? Oh!! A horse! Horses!! Lots of horses! A heard of wild mustangs and a cowboy rounding them up!
The mustang round up was the last picture I drew in that special book my teacher made for me. The pressure I put on myself was just too great. What if my next picture wasn’t as good and I messed the whole book up! What theme would be grand enough to draw for the book? Besides, I only knew how to draw my two favorite things: princesses and horses and I had already done that!
There after I went back to drawing in the margin of my school papers and on the backs of worksheets. Then the drawing was just for fun, and I wasn’t wasting “good” paper if I messed up. If I liked it I kept it with my other scraps. If I didn’t I threw it away and had no guilt about waste.
I remember another time when the adults were pruning the shrubs we made costumes for ourselves out of leaves. At school, other children might be skipping rope, playing on the swings, but I found a place in the school field where someone’s garden grew over the school fence. I plucked leaves, twigs, and seedpods to make little pretend pets. I think I have always had an urge to create.
When I was about seven, my teacher used a whole stack of white construction paper to make me a book to draw in. I heard her tell my Mom “Your daughter is so talented.” I went home that day and I thought "I have to draw a really wonderful picture in this special book my teacher made for me". And I remember thinking it had to be the best picture I had ever drawn. So I drew a princess on a castle balcony, a prince on a horse, sword in hand fighting a dragon. Phew! When I was done I was pleased. I was exhausted after drawing the best picture ever! My picture brought lots of praise from my teacher. Then she said the fateful words. “I can’t wait to see what you draw tonight.” Uhgg! What could top a princess, a dragon, and a horse!? Oh!! A horse! Horses!! Lots of horses! A heard of wild mustangs and a cowboy rounding them up!
The mustang round up was the last picture I drew in that special book my teacher made for me. The pressure I put on myself was just too great. What if my next picture wasn’t as good and I messed the whole book up! What theme would be grand enough to draw for the book? Besides, I only knew how to draw my two favorite things: princesses and horses and I had already done that!
There after I went back to drawing in the margin of my school papers and on the backs of worksheets. Then the drawing was just for fun, and I wasn’t wasting “good” paper if I messed up. If I liked it I kept it with my other scraps. If I didn’t I threw it away and had no guilt about waste.
A fear...
What if I am just creating yard sale fodder? What if my body of art that I have strived to create, given the hours of my days and the days of my years is evaluated as just so much junk to give to the Goodwill by my grandchildren after I am dead?
What if I am just creating yard sale fodder? What if my body of art that I have strived to create, given the hours of my days and the days of my years is evaluated as just so much junk to give to the Goodwill by my grandchildren after I am dead?
I am reading an excellent book, The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron. One point Cameron makes is that for most us choosing to be an artist is an act of rebellion against our parents. Because we feel guilt for this rebellion, we feel our art must be hugely successful or complex to justify our choosing to pursue art against our parent’s wishes. I have fallen into this trap. My beginning projects are never simple. The projects I have undertaken are colossal in scale. My first quilt project was a queen sized quilt made up of over 400 diamonds cut on the bias. My first stained glass project was a Tiffany-style lamp. My first sewing project was a formal gown for the prom. When undertaking such challenging projects without the proper beginning steps, naturally we are frustrated. The project doesn’t come out as we had imagined it in our minds. Likely, we were criticized for choosing such a complex project in the first place. If we are wise, we learn from this experience and start with smaller projects the next time. A wise person realizes their struggle was caused by trying to rush the learning process, and skipping the work of learning the basic skills. Of course, not me! I struggled through piecing the quilt together. Yes, I finished it. But, I hated making it. I blamed quilting. “What a dumb craft! How dumb to cut up perfectly good fabric just to sew it back together again! I’m never going to quilt again!”
The next craft I took on was stained glass. (The irony of choosing another craft dependent on cutting material into small pieces and putting them back together again is not lost on me now!) “What a dumb craft! How dumb to cut up perfectly good glass just to fit it back together again! I’m never going to do stained glass again!” And so it went. I’d choose an impossibly hard project for my first exploration of a craft. I would struggle through the process, hate the results, blame the craft, and move on.
Fortunately for me, I also enrolled in classes to learn some crafts. My teachers made me take time to learn the basics. They made sure I had success with each step before I was allowed to progress to the next level. By the end of the class, I completed several well-made simple projects. No, they were not the masterworks I fantasized about. But, I enjoyed the process. I felt proud of what I had learned and happy with what I had created. And most importantly, I was left with the positive feeling of anticipating creating again.
The next craft I took on was stained glass. (The irony of choosing another craft dependent on cutting material into small pieces and putting them back together again is not lost on me now!) “What a dumb craft! How dumb to cut up perfectly good glass just to fit it back together again! I’m never going to do stained glass again!” And so it went. I’d choose an impossibly hard project for my first exploration of a craft. I would struggle through the process, hate the results, blame the craft, and move on.
Fortunately for me, I also enrolled in classes to learn some crafts. My teachers made me take time to learn the basics. They made sure I had success with each step before I was allowed to progress to the next level. By the end of the class, I completed several well-made simple projects. No, they were not the masterworks I fantasized about. But, I enjoyed the process. I felt proud of what I had learned and happy with what I had created. And most importantly, I was left with the positive feeling of anticipating creating again.
Welcome to my midlife crisis. My husband already had his. He bailed out of the corporate world. He is now a freelance writer, and we are living a remote property in northwest Montana. So my husband has all his worldly dreams fulfilled: a freelance writing career, a gorgeous piece of property in prime hunting and fishing country, children that make him proud, and a trophy wife (hah hah!)
My midlife crisis is just gearing up. How spoiled am I to even have the luxury to indulge in a mid-life crisis? What it really means is my life is really very very good. I have the free time and such a stress free life that I can worry if I’m not fulfilling my destiny. I doubt women in Third World countries worry about such things!
The cause of my crisis is that my youngest child is nearly a teen. My children don’t need me in the same way that they used to. I can see them growing more independent daily. What will I become when I am no longer a “mommy”? What significance will my life have then? What is my purpose after the children are grown?
My degree is in elementary education. I choose teaching because that (or nursing) was the degree that my parents were willing to support. My parents, who grew up during the Great Depression, are practical, old fashioned folks. They expected that I would marry and be a mother, but a teaching credential was good to have just in case my husband was unable to support the family. “You can teach anywhere your husband’s career takes you”, they said. Well, in some ways teaching is a great profession for me. I can get awfully preachy and I sure love to pontificate. But, my greatest love is to create.
So my mid-life crisis boils down to this… I have been a mother, the role my parents approved for me. But, I can see the end nearing of that role. If I continue to seek the approval of my parents, I would go back to work as an elementary school teacher. But, if I have learned anything from my husband it is - do what you love, and the success will follow. My true love is creating art.
My midlife crisis is just gearing up. How spoiled am I to even have the luxury to indulge in a mid-life crisis? What it really means is my life is really very very good. I have the free time and such a stress free life that I can worry if I’m not fulfilling my destiny. I doubt women in Third World countries worry about such things!
The cause of my crisis is that my youngest child is nearly a teen. My children don’t need me in the same way that they used to. I can see them growing more independent daily. What will I become when I am no longer a “mommy”? What significance will my life have then? What is my purpose after the children are grown?
My degree is in elementary education. I choose teaching because that (or nursing) was the degree that my parents were willing to support. My parents, who grew up during the Great Depression, are practical, old fashioned folks. They expected that I would marry and be a mother, but a teaching credential was good to have just in case my husband was unable to support the family. “You can teach anywhere your husband’s career takes you”, they said. Well, in some ways teaching is a great profession for me. I can get awfully preachy and I sure love to pontificate. But, my greatest love is to create.
So my mid-life crisis boils down to this… I have been a mother, the role my parents approved for me. But, I can see the end nearing of that role. If I continue to seek the approval of my parents, I would go back to work as an elementary school teacher. But, if I have learned anything from my husband it is - do what you love, and the success will follow. My true love is creating art.
I have a lot of unfinished art projects cluttering my life. Unlike other people who give up on a project because it is not turning out as well as they had hoped, I give up on projects that have come out quite well. The fact is, the happier I am with my art, the more likely I am to leave it unfinished. Why? Because I am paralyzed by the thought that my effort cannot measure up to what I have already done. I might ruin it in the process of finishing it!
