New Work: An Assemblage of the Self

Over the summer, I was part of a wonderful online residency program where I focused on expanding into a few different new mediums. My goal was to push myself into assemblage work while incorporating encaustic still in some way, with a theme of personal exploration. I’ve done a lot of self portraits over the years, but I wanted to explore a different way of doing self portraiture. I wanted to explore using objects that hold meaning to me personally… and use images that didn’t have me physically in them.

CONCEPT:
With the goal of making a self portrait in a new way, this work tells pieces of my own stories across my almost-40 years. Fishing net, photography, beeswax, old found bits and handmade vessels… there is so much of me here that only I know about really. Stories from my childhood, when I used to collect discarded things, I think, because I felt discarded myself in a way after my mother died. The brass key is one of those items (I still have the original brass key I rescued from the gutter, on my studio shelf). Stories from my teenage years, when I used to ride my bike across town to go watch shrimp boats fishing and cargo ships coming into the harbor, and I’d write and draw for hours. Stories from my twenties, where I lost and found myself more times than I can count… mostly in books, art, music and in a love that was taken from me too soon. And stories from today, from the midwestern forests I now roam and the new love I now know, and the person I have become after all these years. This is the place I’ve finally embraced that nature unlocks me - and all of us - in beautiful ways. I really don’t know what is seen by others in this piece, but I see an entire lifetime of myself teased out in just a few prominent objects. This was such an incredible way to make and to tell a story - so different from what I am used to!

PROCESS:
Building this piece was new and challenging. I’m not used to constructing with rigid materials like boxes and frames and wood. This kind of making has never been my strong suit. Thankfully, my husband can build just about anything, and knows all the best ways to glue, nail, and adhere pieces of different materials together. With a few tips from him on the how’s and when’s of construction, I was able to start moving forward into new territory. Still, I found myself resisting at each new phase of building this piece … there was something about the permanence. The knowing that once it is glued down, it cannot be undone. Something about this was so challenging to move past, and often times the piece sat for several weeks just laid together before I got the guts to glue it! Overall, it was an exciting new process to play with though, and I enjoyed digging through things both in vintage shops and in my own collection for what moved me most!

REFLECTIONS:
Working on this piece was so revealing. I’d never realized before, but most of my art processes avoid permanence for as long as I am able! Working in clay, wax, and digital photography… there is always a way to undo aspects of what I make. There is always the chance to change my mind, uproot it all, or start over, at least up to a certain point. Creating in a way that felt more “decided” and concrete from earlier on was very alien to me.

This project revealed to me that this avoidance of the permanent has really been a theme all my life. I tend to never want to create anything in my life that feels like it cannot be changed, uprooted, or altered. I am endlessly indecisive, about art pieces and what toppings to order on my pizza. I’ve endured a lot of “uprooting” in my life due to death and loss, so I suppose that’s a part of it. To me, anything that feels final tends to feel like loss, like I’ve lost the ability to still have input or control or interaction with it. Which of course, isn’t really true, but seems to be my lifelong instinct. I don’t like much of anything feeling “set in stone” - no thanks!

While not so natural for me, I did really enjoy making this piece. I enjoyed how cathartic it was. How it allowed me to revisit some parts of my own story in deep ways, and visually honor those pieces of myself. I can definitely see doing more assemblage work in the future!

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Renewal in the Studio and the Heart

Hi friends! Today I’m finally sharing a reveal of the renovations I’ve done on my studio since last winter. It has been quite a learning experience in carpentry, patience and person growth. I happen to believe that our spaces - whether it is an art studio or our living room, can really reflect where we are with ourselves and our lives. This idea is reinforced for me as I sit down to write this piece. As I pull old photos and new, I can see so much of my own evolution in this space as it grows and changes with me over the years.

This is where my studio space all began, back in 2016. I had just moved in with my now-husband to his house and we carved out the back of the basement for a studio for me…

Initially, my heart was so full. Having lived in apartments my entire life, I’d never been able to have a dedicated space for my art. But once I started trying to use it, I found I struggled. It felt dark and dingy. In the winter it was cold and took a long time to heat up the space. The floor was a hideous brown and covered in old paint splatters. The walls and ceiling all screamed with pop-corn texture that even a soft grey paint didn’t subdue much. The hundred-year-old cement floor was chipping away and not very paintable, not to mention being hard on the feet. It didn’t exactly feel inviting.

I’d never had an art space of my own though and I honestly didn’t know what to do to make it better. I didn’t feel I should spend the money to fix it up, and so I just tried adding a few cheap shelves on the walls, and using some existing shelving to organize. It still didn’t feel inviting though. Things continued like this for a few years… making tiny changes here and there but never really feeling better about the space.

Then sometime in 2019, I stumbled on this blog post from Ashley Hackshaw where she shared the evolution of her basement studio. It was like a lightbulb switching on. I suddenly saw what my studio could become, as well as seeing that those beautiful studios I drool over on Pinterest aren’t made overnight. It’s a gradual evolution and now I knew, I didn’t have to do it all overnight. I could just pick one piece to do now, and then another, and another over the years. The problem it turns out, is that I’d never spent any time really dreaming about what this space could be.

Combining this burst of inspiration with all the quarantine time in 2020, I began sketching out what I really wanted the space to be. If I had all the money I needed to renovate that space, what would I want? As I sketched, I added a full wall of cabinets with a desk space on one wall and lighting from under the top cabinets. I added a shallow cabinet and sink on the back wall for cleanup, a corner of shelves to store books and supplies, and a taller solid wood work table I could work at while standing. I replaced all the walls in my mind with smooth, beautiful white walls and a lovely wood floor. Once I really started to dream it all out, I realized I could also do a lot of these things in stages, and really could start right away!

Over last winter, my husband and I went to work on a few of the items I sketched out. I picked the few items that felt the most doable with the most impact: custom work tables, one new wall instead of doing all 3, and some built-in shelves in the corner nook. Before winter was over, we had all of these done and I couldn’t believe how much better the space felt. In the process, I even dreamed up a pegboard system I wanted for displaying finished work that we also built and installed very inexpensively! Things are far from done, and there’s still a ton on the “dream studio” list… but it’s so much more inviting now, and functional.

Through this process, I realized that the problem with creating an inspiring space really was simple: I just wasn’t allowing myself to have it. I needed to allow myself to dream, and then see how I could get there, instead of focusing on what couldn’t be done or how far I felt from the dream.

Throughout the rest of this year, I’ve added smaller touches that are “in-between versions” of the final dream space… not the exact visual, but something that gets me closer. We made the shallow work table on the back wall that can have a sink and cabinets added later. I bought three plastic drawer sets for storage until we can build some drawers into the work tables. I turned my old, plastic work table into a desk with a piece of teal cloth I already had. I covered up the busy open shelves with a scarf to make “closed cabinets” above my desk area. I bought some cheap foam padding for the floor and rescued a rug that my local art center was throwing out to just cover up the ugly cement and make it more comfortable to walk on. All of these smaller changes actually cost almost nothing at all, and combined they really transformed the space.

Whether it’s an art studio or some other aspiration, I really hope sharing this post reminds someone out there to do a little dreaming for themselves. I think we can get so bogged down in the “grown up” parts of life that we forget to dream, to wonder what else is possible, and to go after new things.

I’ve truly enjoyed everything about this process, from dreaming it up, to the memories made with my husband as we tore down walls, discovered all the wonderful hidden mold, and almost electrocuted ourselves… and finally to using this beautiful revised space and the feeling it gives me daily. It inspires me every time I step into it. It’s a space I’m not only excited to be in, but finally a space I’m proud to share, too.

Renovating my art studio isn’t really some huge thing, but it reminded me that sometimes just a small update to our lives can do a whole lot. While some things aren’t vital for living, they may be so very vital for adding quality and joy to our lives.

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New Techniques: Collage Under Wax

This is the fourth in a series of test pieces I did recently using the same photography mixed with a variety of wax and other media. For this piece, I did some mixed media collage work before ever putting the wax down, which is a new way entirely for me to work!

I first glued down the photograph on cardboard and let dry. Afterwards, I brushed on some white acrylic diluted with water over one side of the image, leaving a few drops for added texture. I then laid in some old handwriting to cover the mouth.

Once everything was dry, I laid some wax over, played around with an image transfer of a tree line over on the left, which ended up not working out so I simply scraped most of it back. I then tried some layers of a creamy white opaque wax and rubbed asphalt patch over top to add some detail and brown hue. The last touch was a few more drips to mimic the paint drips on the base layer and add dimension.

Once I set all of these four pieces together, an artist friend of mine pointed out that they made her think of Earth, Air, Fire, Water. And so they did! I hadn’t even noticed this… it just goes to show that sometimes our subconscious mind is also working out its own ideas while we aren’t even noticing… another important reason for just getting into playing and experimenting! Although these were originally just test pieces, I am considering mounting them together now as a single, finished work possibly. I’m unsure what kind of finished treatment I might do to mount them, so I’ll let that simmer a while. I really hope you enjoyed the process of all four of these! If you’d like to see the process on the other three, here are links to Earth, Water, and Fire. Thanks for hanging with me!

New Techniques: Carving Back Wax Pours

This is the third in a series of four experiments with photography, eco printing, and encaustic. For this test, I mounted a self portrait to cardboard and let dry. Then, I created a dam around the edges of the cardboard using painter’s tape. This was to prep for a wax pour. Once poured, I found the wax was so thick you couldn’t see the image below at all really anymore. My original intent had been to do it a bit thinner but I overdid it! Instead, I scraped back certain prominent areas of the underlying image to reveal portions of the face more clearly, leaving an entirely different look.

I then did an image transfer of an eco print that I photographed and printed on my laser printer in order to transfer. This eco print had only some very subtle leaf and plant prints in it, and otherwise was mostly speckles of rust and splashes of blue from some flowers that imprinted in the process. I loved the painterly look of this once applied on top of the face! Again, I scraped back anything that covered the main features of the face and played around with adding some metal leaf, alcohol inks, and small metal beads to give some final interesting textures and layers. I think this whole process has a lot of potential for some interesting things going forward!

New Techniques: Transfers on Eco Printing

This is another test piece exploring some new techniques with photography and eco printing in my encaustic process. This is part of a set of tests I’ve been doing for my online residency, with the goal of exploring self portraiture in new ways. This image was created with several interesting layers. First, I printed out a copy of one of my recent eco prints that had a lot of speckled rust and some interesting warm and cool tones. (I print them often instead of using the originals so I can re-use them in different ways). I mounted the eco print to cardboard and left to dry…

After dry, I put several thick layers of clear encaustic medium over top and fused. Then I transferred the black and white self portrait over top of this, melting it more than I normally would to push the transfer around and create some cracking. I loved the feel of this, because it mimicked the original photo that had dried mud cracking on my face. White I don’t know if I’m happy with the final result using this eco print and this portrait, I am really pleased with the added layers of depth and meaning that this experiment gave!

Creative Habits: Part 3 - End Well to Start Well

Last week, in Part 2 of this series, I talked about morning routines and the ones that I use to help me get into the studio and get working. While last week’s habit was all about starting the day, today’s is about how we finish things off. 

One type of habit I’ve been trying out in different ways the past few years is all about how I leave spaces and how that impacts my experience of returning to them. For years, I’ve always made sure we leave the house clean when we go on a family trip. I will even make sure we tidy before we’re going on a day trip sometimes… to the point that my family often jokes about my tiny tidies. Joking aside, I do absolutely love the way it feels when we get home and there are no dishes to do, no clutter to clean up, and all feels relaxed. I do it because it’s worth it to feel that way to me. 

This habit eventually found its way into my studio, and in the past year or two I’ve been doing a quick 5-minute tidy whenever I’m wrapping up for the day. I don’t do some massive full clean or anything…I just simply put away a few tools, toss any bits of materials that need to go in the trash, and clear off the work table for the next day. I’ll usually leave out any work I am in the middle of, and any tools or materials I’ll definitely be using right away the next work day, but everything else that can be put back in its home is put away. I save bigger cleans for days when I’m creatively feeling stuck - may as well use that time productively!

I find this very regular, very quick habit always leaves me feeling that much more ready for tomorrow. It lets me know that - just like after returning from a vacation to a tidy home I can relax in - I’ll be returning to a studio that is ready for me to make wonderful things in! 

What habits do you have for closing out your creative time? Do you leave yourself notes for tomorrow? Do you make a to-do list or set certain out for the next day? I think we all have so many valuable things to share about the habits that help us be our most creative selves. And if you haven’t those about those kinds of habits, I hope this post gets you thinking and trying some things, because I definitely think that ending our day well can help us begin our next day even stronger.

Cheers friends!

New Techniques: Revealing What's Below

I finished a test piece on some new techniques I'm trying recently and wanted to get it up to share. One of my goals for the online residency I am in was to explore self portraits in new ways. For a few simple techniques, I chose this single self portrait that I'm working with in several different ways.

This first method involves the image glued down to the base surface, then covered with colored and clear wax, and then covered completely with white wax that was melted and fused together. For the final step, I began revealing the hidden face underneath by scraping back the wax. This is a method I got from artist fellow encaustic artist Michelle Belto. I love how it removes an element of control to cover up the underlying image completely... you really don't know exactly what you'll get as you begin to reveal.

I found it not only an interesting process, but a therapeutic one. As I began to reveal, a single eye came through, peering back at me. It felt surprisingly emotional, like I was literally finding myself once again after years of living a life had piled more things on and made it hard to find "me". Powerful stuff. I'm looking forward to exploring all sorts of ways of using this technique, both physically and symbolically, to reveal what's underneath the surface. <3

Creative Habits: Part 2 - Waking Up my Space

Last week, I shared Part 1 of this series about creative habits, in which I talked about setting myself a routine for my creative time that I’ve found to be sustainable and keeping me motivated. Over the past few years, I’ve discovered all kinds of ways to trick my brain into getting excited, motivated, and ready to get things done. These are usually very small little habits that serve to prep me for getting to work, so that when it’s time to get moving, I feel like I’m mentally already ready to go. One of my favorite new habits that has helped me, I call Waking Up my Space. 

During COVID, a few months into committing to a regular every-other-day routine to work on my art, I started this habit that has stuck with me for over a year now. I’m not entirely sure where I got the idea from, but I started going down to my basement art studio early in the morning... not to work, but to wake up the space. I would turn all the lights on, clear any bits off my work tables, light a candle, and put some music on to set the right mood. Then, instead of getting straight to work, I’d leave! I’d go upstairs and spend some morning time with my family for an hour or so before everyone was off to do their school or work. Afterwards, I’d go back down to my studio and find it ready and waiting for me.

The first time I did this, it felt like such a different way to greet my creative space for the day. It felt almost like treating it as a person, or something with an energy all its own. I did this for a week or two, and noticed that it began making me actually excited to get into my studio, instead of feeling like I was dragging myself there. The entire time I would be upstairs in the living room with my family, having breakfast or chatting about the day, in the back of my mind, I knew that my studio was already awake and ready for me. Almost as if my space itself was excited for me to get there. It stirred something in me, a mutual excitement to go join it and get making. 

This simple habit also changed my relationship with my studio space over time. My studio is in a dark, dreary half-finished basement…. not exactly the place anyone would prefer to have their studio. But, it is where I HAVE a wonderful studio. Something I’m so grateful to have. 

As soon as I started to wake up that space in the morning and greet it with love and appreciation, my feeling of “dark and dingy basement” shifted to something more like “perfectly imperfect creative sanctuary”. It made me love it, warts and all. In fact, it made me love it so much that I ended up doing some light renovations to it over the winter to make it more lovely. My husband built me custom work tables. We replaced an old, damaged wall with a beautiful, clean, white wall. He built me a wonderful pegboard to display all my finished work on. We added in a built-in storage shelf for my photo gear, creative books and more. I think my desire to improve that space came so directly from this simple daily habit. It seems that meeting my space with love and getting it ready ahead of time had transformed my motivations to spend time there, and to do it often. 

What sort of habits do you have that might help other folks get into their creative energy? Do you wear a certain “uniform” or outfit that says “It’s time to make!” Do you journal each morning maybe to get the juices flowing? I’d love to know what gets you moving and making!

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Creative Habits: Part 1 - A Place for Everything

Hello friends! Lately I’ve been working on a series of posts about creative habits. There’s plenty on this subject to talk about, but today I wanted to hone in on one piece of the puzzle: Finding a place for things in our lives to help us be more creative.

I’ve always been fascinated about the rituals and habits that people do to stay productive and motivated, especially other artists. Some people eat the same breakfast every day. Others put on a certain outfit or hat when it’s time to get to work. I’ve never really had any of these habits because I’ve always failed miserably to have a regular studio practice as an artist. I’m starting to believe though, that it might actually be the other way around. Perhaps I’ve never been able to have a regular studio practice because I didn’t build in any rituals or habits. At least that is until COVID hit...

This past year, everyone in our house was working and schooling from home. For the first time, I was challenged to create my own hours so that they all knew when I was free and also when I was working on my art. Basically, I had to treat it like an actual job. This turned out to be a great thing, because it challenged me to make my creative practice a priority in ways I never had before. As a wife and mother, it’s quite a big deal to tell everyone in your house “for these hours on these days, you cannot bother me unless the house is on fire because I am making art!”. The audacity! It feels so bold to claim that time and space for ourselves and for artmaking - but why? We do the very same for all sorts of other careers… is it just because artmaking is seen as joyful and it is somehow more audacious to claim time for our joy? Whatever the case, I found as soon as I proclaimed this priority aloud to my family, I felt a wonderful release. It was like giving myself a permission I had been withholding for all kinds of not-real reasons. I learned a few really important things in this process…

1. If your brain loves variety, don’t shove it into a grid!
The very first habit I picked last year was simple: My butt is in the studio every other day. Not every SINGLE day. this is key for me. Working every other day means that my mind knows tomorrow is something totally different. My brain has always rebelled against doing the same thing every single day. It just detests regularity and gets so excited by variety. I think the Every Other Day structure was the magic formula that my brain was waiting for… it keeps me excited and interested and also seems to prevent burnout really well too. That might not be everyone’s brain, but it’s a great example of figuring out what your brain does crave and working with that.

2. Learning What can Wait, and Assigning it a “When”
The other wonderful thing about this structure is that it keeps my art days and my non-art days more separate. Yes I still have to pick up my kid from school daily, and brush my teeth and feed the cat, but there is actually a lot of regular life stuff that can wait until tomorrow. Oh, the livingroom needs vacuumed? I need to buy groceries? I need to have a meeting or make a DR appointment? No problemo… tomorrow is ready and waiting for all of that! It also works in the reverse… Tired and don’t feel like going to the studio? Hey tomorrow is a non-art day where you can take a creative mental break, so just go for it today! It sort of tricks the brain in the best of ways. It prevents me from worrying about non-art things while I’m trying to make art and it keeps me from feeling guilty that I’m not making art because I have days assigned for that.

I suppose it’s a bit like learning good habits for keeping your house clean… if you assign everything a place that works and is easy for everyone to follow through with, and you build habits around that structure, your house becomes much more effortless to keep clean. I don’t think our minds are really much different than our homes. If we have places and times assigned for the different types of things we need and want to do each week, it’s so much easier for our mind to stay tidy, stay energized and be motivated to follow through.

What ways can you tidy your mind? Are there certain times of days or days of the week that are more naturally creative and can you assign that space for art making and assign other times for non-art things?

Do you like things the same every day, or do you crave variety? Working with what your brain naturally craves helps the flow to be more natural, which makes creating habits around it that much easier. I’d love to hear about your creative habits and the ways you’ve found to keep your mind tidy and your creativity going strong!

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Field of Dreams

I've been thinking a lot about the idea of support this past month. Of what it means to share our dreams with others… to grow and support each other. As an artist, this is something I don't think I've ever given myself enough of. I've always tried to "make it on my own" and not rely on others... to look like I know what I'm doing and "have it all together".

I think this is common for many artists - especially those whose creative time is solitary. I think it’s also common for children of dysfunctional childhoods, who grow up learning that it’s best to take care of yourself and not lean on others. It’s not easy to share your dreams and goals and ask for support, no matter your background. It can be hard to be vulnerable enough to say you'd like help.

The truth is though, I’ve gone through a particularly successful year last year to, quite honestly, getting a bit lost this year. Well really, a lot lost. And when that lost place hit me… I realized I hadn’t really built a lot of creative/career support around me to get through it. And I hadn’t been open or honest or allowed anyone into that space with me.

I’ve done this now so many times over the years, that I think it finally sunk in (I can be endlessly stubborn!). Somewhere in this experience, I went from thinking "I can do this myself" to "I probably COULD do this all by myself, yes, but maybe that's not how I want to do it anymore. Maybe, I'd just enjoy some help and support and connection. Maybe, I’d like to just try doing things a different way. Maybe, I’d like to share in this journey more with others, and let them share with me too.” And so that is where I am now, working on this shift of trying things a new way. Connecting more deeply with others. And yes, (GASP…) asking for support! I know I’m not alone in this.

I know so many of us struggle to just speak out loud about needing help, or about wanting support for our dreams. I hope that this helps you to think about where you might not be allowing yourself support, and encourages you to let yourself have the support you need to let your dreams grow.

Finding Ourselves in our Art

In the past few years, I've come to realize that my desire to capture the beauty of neglected things and places has actually been a lifelong process of healing and loving myself. This is what I find so endlessly fascinating about creativity. ⁠

Since I was a kid, I've been drawn to honor the forgotten or discarded, not knowing why. Not realizing that in each photograph of an old barn or sculpture made from discarded junk I was honoring myself. The little girl who lost her mother young, and who spent her teens years emotionally neglected, feeling alone, and often times very lost and forgotten. It has taken my own daughter reaching her teens now to begin to fully realize just how lacking any emotional support was for me as a teenager. It turns out, I was seeing myself in those lonely or forgotten things, and honoring them in my art was a way to honor myself.⁠ Who knew? Man, creativity, you are sneaky!

Our creativity is an amazing thing. I'm learning that it has a knowing. It has a way of helping us heal and be more whole and beautiful beings right under our very noses. Working always in the background for our greatest good. Helping us to honor ourselves more fully, especially the parts of ourselves that might need the most healing of all. Love to you my friends!

Stirring the Creative Pot

The other day, I wasn’t feeling particularly motivated to create anything. I haven’t been feeling like making art much for a few months, in fact. Instead of giving up and going for the usual distractions like cleaning the house or some other adult busyness… I came down and just hung out in my studio - with no plan. I found myself pulling bits of nature from shelves and drawers and just arranging them randomly, with no rhyme or reason. Then I grabbed my phone and took a few pictures.

I’ve done this countless times. I have probably hundreds of photos of these little arrangements hiding on my phone. I never really do anything with them… as it’s more about the process of it for me. There is something about just creating a simple arrangement of things you love that stirs the creative pot a bit. I think in times when I’m not feeling particularly energized to make art, just making tiny arrangements keeps that creative pilot light on, and keeps things at a low simmer. It’s an effortless way to return myself to the present moment and let go of expectations. What are some ways that you find yourself stirring the pot a bit when you aren’t fully in your creative groove? What things help remind you of a thousand small moments of wonder, right in front of our eyes?