Painting

Slow progress this week with minor changes to both the works above, but progress nonetheless. Subsequent additions: Perhaps a mint green something or other to the “cloud” one on the left. This work feels like it may need to go through some significant changes before it all pulls together. We’ll have to see if the mint green something works. The blue work on the right feels like it’s almost there. A possible yellow dash and a few small touches will, I hope, bring it to completion.

Brand New Me progress report

I’m looking at the book Business Model You intending to build my own “Personal Business Model Canvas”. According to the cover, it’s “a one-page method for reinventing your career”.

That said, paraphrasing something, Steve, my coach, said, “If you’ve read these or other books before, what’s different now?”

A fair question. I’m not entirely sure what’s different, but something is – my mindset, perhaps. And maybe by doing these exercises, I am doing busy work and skirting around a belief or truth I’m not ready to face.

Hell, we’ve all done it – gone to the studio, made paintings when there is something we really should be facing, like paying the bills, finding work, dealing with unpleasant conversations.

Is this my version of doing that? Maybe it is. In which case, I hope to call bullshit on my behaviour sooner rather than later. And if it’s not, I’ll soon be able to articulate the value I provide through my work (whether it’s painting, designing, talking with people, or whatever else I do).

While looking at some of my paintings “in the flesh” for the first time, a friend’s comments remind me painting often moves at a slower pace than what we are used to.

Lacking the immediacy of the slick glass screen of social media, paintings with their lumps, stains, and smudges slowly reveal their making. A handmade history of accretions made visible.

Longer-looking brings rewards.

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Thank you for your responses last week. Since then, I’ve been having some good conversations with people on and around my writing. I’ve also been going through old notes, looking at values, models and approaches to apply to my situation and thinking.

Being an artist is messy. Hell, being human is messy. And this year, my Year of Self-Realisation ¹, I am embracing this messiness in all its rich, dirty, chaotic beauty. It is going to mean challenges and changes. And it is about time.

Context

I have mentioned my challenge of having an arts practice and a day job (or two). I know I am not alone in maintaining this taught juggling act.

For me, the tension heightens when my day job is one of self-employment.

When employed by MegaCorp, the people you work with know you as the artist who happens to work at MegaCorp. If you are self-employed in another creative field, graphic design, for example, an identity crisis of sorts may (but not necessarily) be imminent.

I exaggerate for effect, but it is a real dilemma for artists I know.

Should I run two distinct businesses and wear different hats? Do I have one Instagram account for my art and one for my design? Do I try and bring two contrasting things together.

Being self-employed means always having to be looking for the next job. It’s tiring. And I acknowledge it is my own choices that have led me here, so please don’t think I’m complaining. Right now, I’m looking at what other options I have.

This balance, some people appear to manage this. Kerry Ann Lee is one. I also admire the way Sian Torrington is managing her practice and career. Over the last few years, I’ve seen it change, become more professional, more focussed. I know how hard she works.

Other people I’m looking at are Marti Guixe and Frank Chimero. Both designers come across as having a solid sense of who they are.

Marti Guixe is an interesting ideas-based designer doing experimental commercial work. (I enjoy the old school style of his website. Plain HTML. Clunky, not giving two shits and unfortunately not mobile-friendly.)

Designer Frank Chimero comes across as someone who knows himself, who enjoys his work. He thinks, reads, and is articulate.

Of course, this isn’t to say there’s an ocean of doubt behind the scenes. But, despite, or perhaps because of this, they crack on.

And me?

I want to bring together all the various aspects of my professional practice, the skills and experience I have (art, design, critical thinking, design thinking, problem-solving, being savvy, talking with people, asking questions, listening, and more).

It may be unrealistic, unwise and impossible. But I figure it’s worth trying. It may be I go all-in on being an artist. My gut says there’s a perspective shift needed on my part, an adjustment of how I see myself. Such a fundamental shift will bring changes in how I operate.

Why?

I’m tired of wearing different hats, of having separate identities. Rather than be an artist, or a designer, what if I’m a person who makes, creates, thinks, draws, paints, builds, listens, reflects, probes, provokes, and adds immense value?

Why do this publicly?

While I could do this hidden from the public eye, I’m drawing back the curtain. It’s probably going to be messy, there will be mistakes, and I hope, lessons learnt.

In sharing my process, I hope to help others who are in a similar situation. I don’t have all the answers. I hope you find this process engaging, that it increases deepens your relationship with me, my work and whatever I end up doing. It also helps keep me accountable.

While I don’t see myself not making art, I am open to transforming how, what, and why I create.

This is an experiment

For me, this is an experiment, an experiment in self-realisation. It’s part of my ongoing attempt to “fill my skin”. To make my work like I don’t give a fuck (because I really do give a fuck). This experiment may fail spectacularly. I may risk damaging any reputation I have built, risk losing and confusing people. And while I’m uneasy with that, I’m ok with it. I know this work isn’t for everyone and, I know you, my audience, my supporters are intelligent people.

The artists’ artist

I was talking with a friend last night about Guston being an artist’s artist. It is something I wanted to be. Want to be. When peers recognise the work you do, it is something special. Other practitioners understand the efforts made, risks taken, the price paid. They know why you are doing it. That kind of recognition – it rocks. It fucking rocks.

I want to be an artists artist. And I want to find a way to bring my various skills and experience together, to work with fascinating people on exciting and valuable projects. I want financial and emotional rewards. I want to contribute to society. I want to be challenged, to be on point, to be learning and to be open-hearted. Engaged.

And who knows, maybe I realise I do need two or three hats. Or perhaps I will create something new.

How this may manifest

More writing. Reading, feeling, questioning, meditating. A possible blowing up of my website, or at least a temporary reworking. The creation of a LinkedIn profile. Who knows. It is an experiment and is probably going to be messy for a while. Be in flux, like my painting. While this could all be self-indulgent twaddle, I feel it needs to happen. I trust my gut. Something is going to shift.


If this resonates in any way, I’d love to hear your thoughts.

…

Scribbles, scrawls, stripes, spaceships, socks & sandals, sports courts and something sculptural.

I added the “frame” to this painting yesterday. There is an awkwardness to this work, and the yellow is a bit full-on (if something can be a bit full-on).

Is it finished, is it complete? I am uncertain.

Is every element pulling its weight? What if I take one element away? What if I add something new?

Keen to push the work to places where I feel uncomfortable and uncertain – this is where things get interesting.