It’s a New Day

Everything is cyclical. Today is the start of fall. It is a new day. It is the gentle rebirthing for me of my art studio Bohemian Art Cafe. I don’t have a “real” art studio anymore. Most of my art supplies are in storage. I have a rolling cart with art journaling supplies, a tool box of fine metal jewelry supplies, another toolbox with my watercolor painting kit, and a box with my calligraphy and illumination supplies.

Can it be enough? After having ten years of tremendous art studio space and more supplies than I probably could have used in my lifetime, I have found myself recently questioning why I have so much stuff and how much simpler life could be if I selected some new, easier to access and far more portable and small hobbies. Glass is heavy. It takes up a lot of space. It does not move easily or well, often ending in broken pieces and it is expensive. Am I an art supply and book hoarder? I fear that I may be. 

We moved again...four months ago and I’ve virtually done no art. That bone dry creative abyss has still been very much alive and well.

But just recently, this past month or so, I’ve felt the budding seed of the artful urge. That creative driving need to express myself has begun to peep out. I don’t really know how it is going to play out, but I needed the healing of my soul and spirit from what was a couple of somewhat brutal life events. Let me repeat that. I needed the time to heal my soul and my spirit. Had I had the place to do it, I probably could have used painting as my therapy, but it felt like there was nowhere to do this. I realize now that probably isn’t true. It’s just an excuse and an avoidance technique.

We cleaned out a storage unit this past weekend and we took a trailer full of stuff to a thrift store. I still could take 4 to 5 more trailers of stuff...but I’m forced by distance and time constraints to let it sit. In my head, a list is stewing, slowly formulating into another list of stuff to let go. I have a good 10 boxes of art supplies I’ll eventually be posting on my Etsy store, Ephemera Bistro.

But, in the meantime, this tickling urge has led me to sign up for two fine silver jewelry crafting classes and a torch fired enameling class. When I take them, I vow that my intent is to 1. Thoroughly enjoy the class and process, 2. Take my time to practice and really create something beautiful, and 3. That I will not bastardize my healing and process by trying to go into production mode and create a bunch of mediocre pieces. In fact, I don’t know that I EVER want to go into production mode again, unless it is to create large scale public artworks. So hello fall...it’s a time for harvest.

(c) 2019 SZing.All Rights Reserved. Photographs courtesy of Pixabay.

Rules? What Rules?

There are rules for cooking and rules for dating.  There are rules that govern our behaviors in society and rules in most households.  They all have their place.  But I just want to go on record and say that in all my not inconsiderable life experience I have yet to see a Rule Book for writing or artwork.  Yes, I am well aware that there are “schools of thought” and “best practices.”  I am also aware that there is, through numerous peoples’ prior expertise and experience, a significant body of knowledge about what seems to work well, effectively and provide “success” in both writing and the art world. 

I also think it is a good idea for an artist to learn at least the basics of their craft.  I believe it is a good practice to hone one’s craft. 

Having, at times in my life, been a rule breaker and sometimes rebel, I find it equally important to break those non-existent rules--oh, the irony!   Perhaps Pirates of the Caribbean had it right when they said that rules are more of a guideline.  To be constrained by rules in art and writing is a double edged sword. 

There is the value of creating something in the normal and expected manner.  But for the sake of creativity and the sake of an artist’s (I use the term inclusively, as writers are also artists) sanity, constraint by rules can be a death knoll to genuine expression and creative intent.  Rules can stymie the flow of ideas.  And when the flow of ideas stops, the art stops.

Not only does the art stop, but the exploration of the use of mediums vanishes.  What would have happened if the Van Eyck’s had not experimented with pigments and oils?  We would have no oil paintings.  What would have happened if the studio art movement did not play with the production and manipulation of glass?  So many unique expressions in glass would not exist. 

What would happen if artists had not broken the rules?  Jackson Pollock and Andy Warhol, among many others, immediately come to mind.  Now I realize that there are certain sets of critics and artists who “don’t like” or at least are not fans of these type of artists' work, but it is my belief that our artistic vision, our artistic evolution and the culture of art would be stagnant if not for the rule breakers. 

Sometimes you just have to allow something new to be born that has never been seen before.  This can’t happen within the confines of a fenced in belief system.  Even if there WERE a book of official rules for which an artist should follow…I still would say…rules?  what rules? 

A Ripe Moment

Okay, this might seem a little awkward at first.  Just…relax.  It doesn’t mean you are “crazy,” or “off your nut,” or need psychiatric care (of course, I’m not saying that you aren’t or don’t either!)…

Picture this.  You are zooming along in the art studio.  Making great strides toward completion.  Picking the right colors, the right brushes, making the right marks, adding the right touches, combining the right materials…whatever the case may be, you’re on a roll.

And then, just like a water well gone dry…your energy on the project disappears.  You get bored.  Maybe you stop to take a coffee break or even a nap.  Maybe your eyes glaze over when you think about working on the project and your brain gets fuzzy.  All of these are the perfect symptoms indicative of “A Ripe Moment.”

A Ripe Moment is that place in time and space where a convergence occurs and there is an opportunity to proceed and complete the project.  A Ripe Moment, despite its name, can last for as long as it takes for you to get it that it is A Ripe Moment. 

What do you do when you realize it is A Ripe Moment?

Ask questions.  This is where the partly bonkers stuff comes into play, because you are going to either be talking to yourself, or to your artwork, and no other.



Ask yourself questions about the work.  For the sake of this blog entry, we’ll refer to painting—with the understanding that this could apply to every medium and technique. 

Such questions might be:  what color would I like to use now?  What brush feels good in my hand?  If I could paint (or put) any subject matter into this, what would I add?  Was there anything that I thought about doing to it but didn’t?  Continue to ask questions that require something more than a yes/no answer until you find your energy for the project restored and can again work on it.



If, as once in a while may happen, you cannot either think of any questions to ask yourself or you aren’t getting any answers that move you to that place where you can work again, begin asking the work questions.  Okay…you’re going to have to use your artist’s imagination here and pretend that the artwork is actually answering you. 

Questions to ask the artwork might be:  What color would you like to have next?  What color would you like more of?  Is there something I need to add that I haven’t?  Is it okay if you turn out “ugly”?  If you were going to hang at any gallery or museum, where would you want to be?  What would get you there?

In the long run, A Ripe Moment is a turning point.  It can be ignored, procrastinated or stopped in its tracks.  Sooner or later, if you wish to return to creating, A Ripe Moment must be embraced. 

May you receive happy answers and stay out of the Looney bin.