Art Ramblings and SKETCHES! Huzzah!!
Every time that I start to make a piece of art- not fun little doodle sketches or just mindless scribbles and studies… but something like picking up the paintbrush, cutting out and pasting a collage, beginning a lifedrawing…
It’s like I’m on the top of that mountain again, the black diamond hill, icy, slick, steep; and these skis are new to me, I’ve haven’t done it for too long, and there’s no turning back now, I’m up here, and have to find my way down to the bottom. And starting that artwork feels like going over that edge, and feeling the wind screaming against my face and the shivering bumps of the uneven snow rushing beneath me, and the hill stretches out below, the edges blurred, everything coming faster than my mind can process. My heart is pounding and I can feel the panic response flooding my brain: you’re not gonna survive, there’s to many things to think about, too much that can go wrong, but OH GOD there’s no turning back, if you hesitate you’ll wipe out, so you just have to breathe and stop thinking, twist and turn your body, your skis, let your muscles take over, let them know the right way to bend and move and absorb the shocks, to adjust to the nuances and pressure and angles you must take to navigate down safely; let yourself step outside and watch something else inside of you run the hill before your eyes, until abruptly you have skidded to a perfect stop at the base of the hill.
Ever time I begin to create, I feel the same rush of adrenaline, fear, overwhelming… and like skiing, I need to take the energy and trust it, step outside myself (and somehow deeper inside at the same time,) let the work happen, know that I might wipe out at any second, and carry on anyway.
I know that it could seem to some people that this is being overly dramatic. But this is what I go through as an artist. My experience two weeks ago, of skiing again for the first time in 10 years, is those most fitting metaphor I’ve found (regardless of how cheesy it may be). Art making is intense, it’s pure terror, it’s liberating… it’s anything but calm, routine, and it probably never will be.
Sometimes I feel a little jealous of the artists that can create work calmly, or even relaxed, that don’t feel their mind being pushed over some edge every time. It doesn’t feel fair- I’d like to work tirelessly at my skills and constantly improve by sheer volume of work and persistence. But who’s to say that all artist’s don’t find it just as hard… they’re just better at hiding it than I am!
Regardless, I’m just thankful that I’ve gotten to the place where I can find the courage to approach that edge more often, without backing away to hide in warm, hot-chocolate-y, fire-place warmed refuge from art.
ANYHOO, enough serious. Here's some sketchbook fun!!!
It’s like I’m on the top of that mountain again, the black diamond hill, icy, slick, steep; and these skis are new to me, I’ve haven’t done it for too long, and there’s no turning back now, I’m up here, and have to find my way down to the bottom. And starting that artwork feels like going over that edge, and feeling the wind screaming against my face and the shivering bumps of the uneven snow rushing beneath me, and the hill stretches out below, the edges blurred, everything coming faster than my mind can process. My heart is pounding and I can feel the panic response flooding my brain: you’re not gonna survive, there’s to many things to think about, too much that can go wrong, but OH GOD there’s no turning back, if you hesitate you’ll wipe out, so you just have to breathe and stop thinking, twist and turn your body, your skis, let your muscles take over, let them know the right way to bend and move and absorb the shocks, to adjust to the nuances and pressure and angles you must take to navigate down safely; let yourself step outside and watch something else inside of you run the hill before your eyes, until abruptly you have skidded to a perfect stop at the base of the hill.
Ever time I begin to create, I feel the same rush of adrenaline, fear, overwhelming… and like skiing, I need to take the energy and trust it, step outside myself (and somehow deeper inside at the same time,) let the work happen, know that I might wipe out at any second, and carry on anyway.
I know that it could seem to some people that this is being overly dramatic. But this is what I go through as an artist. My experience two weeks ago, of skiing again for the first time in 10 years, is those most fitting metaphor I’ve found (regardless of how cheesy it may be). Art making is intense, it’s pure terror, it’s liberating… it’s anything but calm, routine, and it probably never will be.
Sometimes I feel a little jealous of the artists that can create work calmly, or even relaxed, that don’t feel their mind being pushed over some edge every time. It doesn’t feel fair- I’d like to work tirelessly at my skills and constantly improve by sheer volume of work and persistence. But who’s to say that all artist’s don’t find it just as hard… they’re just better at hiding it than I am!
Regardless, I’m just thankful that I’ve gotten to the place where I can find the courage to approach that edge more often, without backing away to hide in warm, hot-chocolate-y, fire-place warmed refuge from art.
ANYHOO, enough serious. Here's some sketchbook fun!!!
posted by Sarah at
10:30 AM
1 Comments:
yo sarah, ur blog is hilarious and highly entertaining! i just read ur analogy of art and how it feels for you to do it, and i loved it. i totally understand what you go through, except my problem w/ art (and working, in general) is that i procrastinate, a lot. Yep, procrastination is my middle name, and its sad for me bc while i lay in my bed and try to sleep from a long day of not drawing anything, or stare at the dots on my ceiling for extended periods of time, i can feel my art future slipping away.
But I'm glad you're starting to get back into art. Bc, to put it bluntly, if you don't make it in this art world, what hope is there for the l.a.m.p s'? (lazy-ass-mo-phos)
By
Eduardo Avenir II, at 12:28 AM
Post a Comment
<< Home