5 things I've learned about being an artist

What building my studio and working in it has taught me

1. It’s okay to be loud and take up space

Many women throughout history have tried to be smaller, fit a mold, do what they’re supposed to do. We were taught (consciously or not) it’s unladylike to talk or laugh too loud, to sit with our legs swung wide, to ask for time for ourselves.

To build my sculpture studio and make time to be creative in that space, I’ve needed to:

a) Claim the entirety of our garage

b) Ask for alone time

c) Learn to say ‘no’ to protect my creative time, space and energy

d) Make a lot of loud sounds, play music loud, dance with the garage door open, even when the neighbors are outside

These things may be easier for some people. But I remember a moment in my studio, a few years back, when I felt the urge to shrink. I caught myself feeling the need to apologize for making sound. Was I apologizing for existing?

Once I became conscious of this feeling (and of the ridiculousness of it), I’ve actively been working against it. Sometimes, what we shy away from is something we really need. I take great joy in the space and time (and volume) I allow myself to be creative.

What areas of your life make you hide pieces of yourself?

2. Find and recognize sacred spaces

A sacred space takes the idea of a safe space to another level. It’s what my studio became once I felt it was okay to be loud and take up space.

I feel a creative space needs a sense of sacredness to function properly. Art is an Adam’s Rib, carefully excavated from your depths and brought to life in another form. (I know I’m dramatic). And that’s not something easy to accomplish when you don’t feel you belong in your creative space. It takes vulnerability and focus and patience.

My sacred space isn’t one I allow myself to be distracted in, or hurry in. When I step into my space, I’m reminded to be patient with myself, to not shy away from challenges, and to trust my process and my decisions.

What spaces do you feel most calm and empowered in?

3. Take your time

It’s literally dangerous to rush while metalworking, which has been such a blessing.

As humans, I believe we rush too much throughout our entire lives. It’s the easiest way to not live in the moment.

Why would you run up a mountain when you could spend more time breathing fresh air, looking at the underside of ferns, standing still to observe a family of ermine? There’s so much beauty we miss when we rush.

Slowing down in the studio has helped turn it into a sacred space. It’s helped me be present, stay safe and enjoy the process.

What in your life genuinely needs to be a rush?

4. Step away

You and your art are in a relationship, one that deserves to be respected and given its own set of boundaries.

I used to be hard on myself for the days I didn’t find time to be creative. That day would turn into one week, then two. I would come up with excuses, try to justify them, then feel bad and eventually force myself to create when I wasn’t actually up for it.

I’ve become conscious of only spending time in my studio when I’m in the right headspace. I only want to be creative when I’m going to be gentle with myself. I want to stay open to the process and not allow frustration into the room with me (which, fyi, will happen when you force yourself to do something you’re not up for).

Since I’ve change my relationship with my art, I’ve naturally been more and more “in the mood” to spend time with it.

Stepping away and giving yourself a chance to miss your work is vital to the process. In that time away, you’ll get re-excited about your craft until you can’t wait to get back out there. Being more observant than productive can lead to a fresh batch of inspired ideas.

Ebb and flow is a reality of artmaking. As I said, a creative space is supposed to be a sacred one, not a land of resentment. We are naturally cyclical creatures, it’s okay to not be the same level of productive week-over-week, all year long.

Could you achieve a healthier balance with your work?

5. Experiment

When you take your craft super seriously, and especially when you share it on social media, it can feel really hard to experiment. I’ve caught myself in the terrible mindset of will people like it? Immediately, that question sucks all the play out of the process. You’re no longer asking (and trusting) what you like, what you enjoy, or what your own ideas are. Instead you’re putting it all in some anonymous other person’s hands (whose desires you only think you know).

If you stay in the safety of what you know will look good, you may never tap into something truly great, unique, and fully you.

Some of my biggest fails have shown me what I don’t want to do. There are so many directions I could take my art, many of which I’m curious to explore. The ones I’ve tried that didn’t work, I was able to close the door on and move onto something else.

Some of my biggest fails have led to new paths of thought that I only reached by taking risks.

Your art doesn’t always have to look good.

Have fun. It’ll show in the final.

Be okay with the discomfort.

What’s one way you could push your work in a totally unexpected direction?

And as always, stay curious <3