I was drawing this morning. I’m trying to get into the habit of drawing a little every morning. Watch out – I have watercolor pencils and I know how to use them.
Well, sort of. I know how they work. I’m not quite patient enough to draw real things. I make up excuses for myself, saying that the real things are there, and I can’t improve upon them. Why draw them when I could just take a picture? But I know that is a cop-out. I know that is me trying to not do the work required to learn how to translate something three-dimensional into something two-dimensional.
There is something to drawing what is there. It slows you down. You have to really look at things if you are going to draw them. Does this angle go straight up, or slightly to the right? Oh, look, there’s a crack there. I thought that spot was flawless.
Sometimes I learn things when I’m drawing. I’ve learned that figs aren’t just purple. There is a little green in the skin too. And they have really interesting spots, tiny ones. But sometimes what I learn isn’t right in front of me. I learn things while I’m drawing that have to do with how I draw, and have to do with where my head is at the time.
I’m trying a technique called “Praying in Color”. I saw this book by Sybil MacBeth at the library and have decided to incorporate its ideas into my morning routine. I like to draw, and I like to pray – and I don’t have a lot of spare time. So why not do both at the same time? I’m not sure that I do it exactly the way it is in the book. I think I have put my own spin on it. I offer this idea to you, if you are trying to find a new way to pray.
I take a piece of paper and I write today’s date and my prayer intention on the back of it, towards the bottom. Then I turn it over and start drawing. I doodle. I pick up whatever color that comes to mind, and I draw whatever shape that I’m feeling at the moment. I think that is important. I’m not trying to draw something real. Then, while I’m in that space where I’m not controlling what is happening, I get answers to my prayer intention. Quite often it isn’t what I thought it would be, and I’m surprised. It is a bit like being a shaman, but using watercolor pencils.
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Salamander art
I said that I wanted to draw every day and that is not happening. I’m not making time for it on a regular basis, and when I do make the time (not enough, but something) I feel that I’m not doing my best. I make up color tests, rather than sketching something that is there. Or I do the praying-in-color thing, where I doodle and pray at the same time. It helps me realize something or get something out. It is something, but not what I wanted. It isn’t my best work. It is something. Currently I’m reassessing my drawing. There is only so much time in the day, and I wonder when I can shoehorn everything in.
Life is about choices. And it is about deciding what you are going to focus on. And it is also about admitting defeat or trudging on.
I’m glad I got over the objection that I wanted unlimited time to do this. I have a clock in my craft room that I look at, and I’ve not run late yet. I’d rather be able to spend as much time as I want, but I’ve learned that if I don’t have a time limit, I tend to not even get started. It makes no sense, but it is that way it is.
Praying or crafting is a little like swimming. I stop being part of time, of the “real” world, and I connect with the endless. I leave the known of the dry land and I enter another world, where the normal rules don’t apply. It is hard to want to come back, and it is hard to make that switch when I must come back because I have to go to work. Sometimes I resent having to go to work, because of the time it takes out of my week. I like my job – I’m grateful to have a job that I can do well, and it has health insurance and a pension. It is hard to be an adult sometimes.
Then I remember the salamander again. It is dual natured. It needs water to survive. It has to be near water. It was born in water, breathing it. It evolves, and then it can breathe air, but never fully is able to leave the water. It can’t breathe water again after a certain point, but it needs to be near water – it needs to feel the water on its skin on a regular basis or it will shrivel up and die.
I’ve heard that the Torah is the same as water. The Word of God is water. Jesus tells us that he is living water.
Funny how I got that salamander tattoo a long time ago, and it is my touchstone now. It is pulling me back to myself.
It is a reminder of then, and a reminder of a promise, and it is a way-marker and a milestone. It shows then and future at the same time. Like all good messengers from God, it has many layers of meaning, and it is always true. I just can’t interpret it all yet. But it helps. It helps me remember, and pull myself back in.
Funny how this tattoo, this symbol of a salamander, refers to opposites – to fire and to water. Funny how it is a tiny creature, yet has such a mythology around it.
I’m learning how to be creative and have a full-time job at the same time. I’m learning how to be the salamander – to be in and with and near and part of art and work, at the same time. I’m learning to not separate the parts of who I am into pieces, but integrate them into a whole.
(updated 1-18-18)
Art Attack
I want to get my art started. It isn’t beating very well. I forget to take time to exercise it, to keep it healthy.
It isn’t due to lack of materials. I’ve got paint and canvas and decoupage goop and brushes and watercolor pencils and watercolor paper. The list goes on. Trust me, I’ve got stuff. I even have a cute little bin that looks a bit like a small attaché case that I’ve put the words “Art Attack” on it using my label maker. I figure if it is portable, then I’ll do it more. Nope. Rarely works.
I’ve seen books that I like the style of. A little bit of words, and a painting or three to a page. Sometimes they are travel books, sometimes they are children’s books. The illustrations are irregularly sized, mostly rectangles though. Some people can make watercolor look so simple.
I’ve decided that I’m making this too hard. Just like with writing, I need to set aside time to do this. Once a week? Once a day? Whatever I pick, I’m going to have to stick to it. If I wait for the muse, she’ll never come. Sometimes you have to go find her.
Part of the issue that I’m having is I like to be free with my art. I like to get immersed when I’m creating. I don’t want to have to suddenly stop and have to get ready to go to work. Art, when done well, is transformative. It is like a soul-journey. It is like getting stoned, but without the illegal part. So I don’t really want to work on my art first thing in the morning. But then I don’t have time when I get home, and the light is bad.
Another issue is that I don’t want to waste the materials. I want to use them well, to make good art. Paint and canvas can’t be re-used in the same way that beads can. You can’t move stuff around to make it look better in the way that you can with words, either. I feel a need to think it through and get it right. So instead of potentially making a mistake, I make nothing. Talk about wasting materials.
I need to follow my own advice. Something is better than nothing, and if I make up too many rules about this then I’ll never do it. If I think that it has to be perfect, to look like the illustrations in the books I enjoy, then I’ll never do it. So I have to commit to this, and just create. I need to create for the sake of creating, with no editing or self-censoring. I need to remember that it isn’t the end product that is the point, and to just enjoy the process.
There is nothing like drawing something to make you really SEE it. There is this concept called closure – we see what we think we are seeing, most of the time. We see what we expect to see. But when we slow down and try to draw something, we notice all the things we’ve missed. By making art, I learn to really use my eyes to see, not just to look.
Supplies – to paint or not to paint
I have so many unused art supplies it isn’t even funny. I have canvas, paint, and image transfer tools. I have books on how to do new techniques. I have fabric and beads. I have stamps and magazines for collage.
And sometimes they just sit around because I’m afraid of messing it up. I’m afraid of using it wrong and wasting the materials. I have to admit that I’d rather do nothing than do something.
Beads are a little more forgiving. I can restring them if they don’t work out the way I planned. But paint and canvas and collage? Not at all. Once it is used, it is used. That is money wasted if it doesn’t work out. But I’m wasting money by not using it either.
I’m trying to change my mind on this. I’m trying to see it as process, not product. Working on a piece is a process. Every failed attempt is a learning event. Everything I learn from trying something new will end up in teaching me how to do it “right”.
I want everything I make to be perfect. I’m not very good at giving myself second chances and do-overs. I’ve found the way through this with writing. I’m OK with the idea of writing about the same subject from different angles. I’m OK about using the same idea or concept in different pieces.
But that isn’t as easy with artwork. Some pieces are permanent. I could make copies of things and use them, but somehow that lacks legitimacy. There is a risk in using the real thing. There is something about that risk, that legitimacy, that I crave. Yet that is also the very thing that I fear.
Unplugged.
If you don’t “get” a piece of art or literature that everybody else raves over, it doesn’t mean you aren’t sophisticated. This applies to everything, really. It may be the latest bestseller, or the latest style, or the latest TV show. Perhaps you’ve tried to understand the appeal. Perhaps you’ve even faked that you like it. Perhaps you’ve hidden what you truly like because it isn’t “in.”
Please stop doing this.
What if everybody else is faking it too?
Wouldn’t it be better if everybody was honest? Sometimes what is popular really isn’t that great. Sometimes what is “high art” really doesn’t make sense. Sometimes what is fashionable is really quite ugly and painful to wear.
It is far better to wake up from the mass delusion of popular culture and just like what you like. Maybe the artwork or the novel or the clothing style doesn’t speak to you because it doesn’t actually have anything to say. It isn’t your lack of class that is the problem.
It is entirely possible that the art piece that you don’t understand is just as incomprehensible to everyone else, and they are faking it too. Perhaps it is just blobs of paint on a canvas, and there is no real meaning there. It is entirely possible that the modern day bestseller really isn’t that good, and the plot is terrible, and the writing is infantile.
There are plenty of famous classic works that aren’t that good that we were forced to read in high school. These works have killed off more passion for reading for fun than they have inspired new readers.
It is perfectly OK to buy all your clothing from Goodwill. It is perfectly OK to drink white zinfandel from a box. Be yourself. By being who you are, instead of buying into the mass delusion of what is “good” (that really isn’t), you’ll actually feel better, and you’ll give other people permission to be themselves too.
How do you divorce yourself from popular culture? For starters, stop watching television. Perhaps that is too radical for you. Try this – pick one night a week and turn the TV off. Read a book. Play a board game. Do something not electronic. The further you can get from the television the better. You’ll no longer have “your” thoughts created for you. Work up to unplugging the TV entirely. You’ll find you have more time to do everything else that you love to do but haven’t found time to do. The TV is a chain around our necks. The same is true for Facebook. Both can be useful tools, but they are more often huge time-sucks. Time is in short supply. Be mindful how you use it, or it will get away from you.
Look at what everybody is raving over and really examine it. The fact that it is popular is a clue that maybe there isn’t really anything there. It is part of the delusion. It has been marketed as “popular,” but not “meaningful.” Don’t waste your precious time on something just because everybody else is doing it.
Western culture has pushed a sense of entitlement on us. We are taught that we deserve the best. We are taught that we need to have the latest, hottest, coolest thing. We then are suffering from our excesses. We go into bankruptcy. We are obese. We have huge houses yet no place to live in them because of all the stuff we have. Our stuff isn’t real. It isn’t what we want. It is what we are told that we want.
We don’t need to have manicures and pedicures. We don’t need to wear makeup. These are things that are pushed on us to teach us that we aren’t good enough on our own. These are prosthesis, when none are needed. We are taught that we need to color our hair so nobody sees the grey. We are taught that we need to do so many things to our bodies so that we look “normal.” We are normal, the way we are.
It is hard at first to break free from the hive mind. But the more you become yourself, the more you help others do the same. I encourage you to be you. You are the only you there is. Celebrate that fact.
Hitchhiker art.
Sometimes if you are waiting for the muse to pick you up and take you away to the magical world of “ART”, you are going to be standing on the side of the road a long time. Sometimes you need to just start walking on your own. This applies to anything creative – writing, painting, beading, music – anything that involves that magical alchemy of time and inspiration and work.
Sometimes where you end up isn’t where you thought you were going to go. Sometimes you’ll end up making something that is totally not what you planned on making. Sometimes what you planned to make isn’t possible. Art isn’t about the end product, really. Art is about the process. It isn’t about getting there, it is about getting on the road and enjoying the trip.
We all have different requirements to get prepared to work on art. Sometimes my favorite time making art is when all the materials are free or nearly free. I don’t feel so bad about working with them. When I have a really expensive string of beads or a large canvas or fancy paper I hesitate to use it. This is sometimes illogical. I’ve already bought it – so by not using it I’m actually being wasteful. But I feel like I need to make the best thing ever, so I hesitate.
It isn’t so bad with beads. If I don’t like it then I can always break it apart and remake it. I’m learning that words are similar. I can cut and paste them. I can start on a theme and work on it until it just doesn’t seem to go any further.
Sometimes I think of writing as if I have seeds. I plant them and give them a little time and work and see if they grow. Then when they have gotten big, I go back and prune them by trimming out the bits that don’t work towards the whole. Sometimes the seeds don’t grow at all.
I have many potential posts saved on my computer that are just a few lines. When I go back to look at them they just don’t seem to have any life to them. Then I’ll come across another piece that I’ve worked on before but didn’t finish. I’ll work on it a little more. Sometimes it works out. Sometimes it isn’t ready yet. I’m learning to be OK with that.
I’m telling you this in the same way a magician tells you their secrets. There is no magic, and it isn’t easy. Nothing comes out perfect the first time. Anything good requires work, and lots of it.
Painting is different. You can’t reuse paint. I’d love to be a great painter. I’d love to be able to just paint what I see and have it look like a photograph. I’d love to be able to paint alien worlds to go with the fantasy words I write about. Right now I content myself with mixing paint into new and beautiful (to me) colors directly on the canvas. Nobody sees it. I’m practicing. I’m learning how the paint works. I’m giving myself permission to play. And that is important.
Kindergarteners don’t need permission to paint, and they don’t need instruction. Well – OK, they need some instruction. Paint on the paper, not on your friend. Don’t eat the paint. But other than that, they create with a true and clear heart. They paint for the joy of it. I think it is a good idea for all of us to reclaim that joy. Just start creating. Don’t worry about the finished product. If you worry about the finish line, you may never get past the starting line.
Not everything has to be awesome. It is good to get in the habit of making stuff. Paint. Bead. Sketch. Noodle around on a musical instrument. If you don’t work on your art, you will get rusty. Rusty things don’t work. It is a reciprocal thing. You get inspired and you make art. But you also make art to get inspired.
Sometimes I resent the time I’m at work. My favorite time to create is when I have a lot of free time and a lot of natural light. I like art to be unscheduled, and to let it flow where and when it will. If I have to keep looking at the clock (such as when it is a morning right before work), I will often lose my train of thought. Then I’m left stranded by the muse, back on the side of the road again.
I have some free time in the evening to make art. But I don’t have natural light then. No matter what they say about natural-light floor lamps, they aren’t the same. It helps to see the colors in natural light to know if they go together. But – let’s be honest. How many people are going to wear my jewelry outside? So really, I should design jewelry in fluorescent light (ugh!) because that is where it will be worn.
Sometimes I have to realize that I’m making up excuses to not work on my art.
Sometimes the inspiration only lasts for a little while. I have had a few trays of three-quarter finished jewelry projects lying around for a while. Sometimes it helps me to just pick those up on the abandoned-by-the-muse days and see if I can figure out where I was going. Sometimes they make good roadmaps, and I can follow the idea. Sometimes it doesn’t matter where I was going on that day. I can pick out the trail and go where it is leading me today instead.
Sometimes I will put out a few ideas to get an idea going. I’ve got the points along the way laid out, but I don’t know how to connect between them. Think of it as a physical journey. I know I want to go to Monteagle, TN and to Atlanta, GA, but I’m not sure how I’m going to get from one to another, for instance. I do that with beads and with writing. I’ll have a few major beads out in a saucer or I’ll have a few sentences typed up, with large spaces between them. I’ll go back later and fill them in. Or I’ll delete them.
Making art and road trips are a lot alike. Sometimes you don’t end up going to all the places you thought you were going to go. But you still have to go. So even if you get stuck on the side of the road, just go. Start walking. Don’t sit there and wonder what happened.
What do you need to feel creative? Comfy clothes? Music? Incense? Set the space. Light a candle. Make a clean space in front of you, dedicated to your art. Read a book on a new technique. Use your non-dominant hand. Go to an art museum – or read a magazine with lots of pictures that have nothing to do with art. Art inspires art – but it also can inspire comparison. “I’ll never be that good!” or “She got famous for THAT?” Ignore those thoughts. Make Your Own Art. However, it is OK to read other people’s roadmaps. There are plenty of craft books, magazines, online blogs, and websites. It is also OK to be totally random and go in circles. You don’t have to GO anywhere. You just have to go.
Really good art requires work. Isaac Asimov wrote every day. So did Robert Parker. Treat art as a job. Don’t wait for it – go out and find it. And keep on going, every day. It won’t be fabulous every day. And what you think is just so-so, someone else will think is wonderful. What you think is perfect, someone else won’t get. So just make art. What are you reading this for? You could be creating!
Process, not Product.
I had a nice discussion with friends last night about creativity and how important it is to not edit at the beginning of the project. Put down a rough outline or a sketch. Then fill in. Then edit. If you edit at the start you will never get your project built. Yes, a strong foundation is good. But the best part is that whatever art form you use, be it writing, music, beading, painting -isn’t a building. You can rearrange it, especially if you are creating in a digital format.
If you think too much about the end you will never get past the beginning. Rarely do my creations end up the way I expected. Over twenty years of jewelry making has taught me that, and I’m learning it is true about writing as well. Even if I have the beads, once I put them together they look different. This texture doesn’t look right with this color. Or I don’t have the skill to connect them the way that I want. I’ve learned to do it anyway with what I have. Just keep going forward. The process is more important than the product.
What you make this week will (probably) look stupid to you in a month. That is OK. You are a different person a month later. Don’t rip your creation apart. Make something else. If you rip it apart and try to remake it, you are just making the same thing over and over. Make something new. That way you are adding, not subtracting. You will constantly be growing and changing and developing. Each time you create you are learning more about the medium and about yourself. Each time you create you are growing.
It is OK to revisit a theme. Whether you are creating with beads, words, or musical notes, themes come up and need to be worked on. It is fine to return to that theme and give it a different treatment. Perhaps this time you will find the “right” way to express that idea. Or not. That is OK too. Keep working and pushing and trying. Grow forward, not back.
I suspect creating is a lot like having a child. You don’t know how it is going to look or behave once it comes out. It isn’t about controlling the creation – it is about being part of it, and letting it develop naturally through you. Part of the delight (or frustration) with being a creative person is that the result surprises you. It ends up how it ends up. Rarely when you are creating do you get to “have it your way”, in spite of what Burger King says. The way your creation ends up is the way it either needs to be, or it is the best you can do right now. The more you practice your art, the better you will get. It is helpful to think of each attempt as a stepping stone, not a stumbling block.
Perhaps I’m trying to be a midwife to your creativity. Don’t fight it. Let it happen. Don’t push too soon. Breathe.
Everybody has to start somewhere. Mozart didn’t create amazing music right from the start, right? OK. Maybe he did. That’s why we call him a child prodigy. But the fact that we have a special word for it means it is unusual. I seem to remember that he had a LOT of music lessons, though. The only difference between you and the expert is a lot of time and work. So get going and make more art!
On prayer bracelets
Beads have been used for millennia as tools for prayer. In fact, our word “bead” comes from the Anglo-Saxon word “biddan” meaning “to pray”. If a woman was using her rosary, she was said to be saying her beads, not her prayers. The two words were interchangeable. And, in a lighthearted vein, we can say that beads are truly “hole-y”.
I came up with the idea for prayer bracelets when I had a couple of friends who were struggling with different issues. One had a father who was terminally ill, and one was trying to defeat drug addiction. I wanted a way to let them know that I was praying for them that had some tangibility to it.
I believe that God made each of us with unique talents and gifts for a reason, so I decided to use my love of working with beads for this purpose. The response from my friends to these bracelets has inspired me to spread this way of praying.
Prayer bracelets can be for different intentions:
You can make one for someone else to let them know you are praying for them. All too often when we tell someone that we are praying for them, they forget a few hours later. With a beaded bracelet, they will have a constant reminder of your concern and love for them. It isn’t “preachy” or obvious – it is a subtle reminder. In this case, you will make a bracelet for your friend and think and pray about her or him while you make it. Wear it for about a week and pray for her or him every time you see the bracelet. Then give it to your friend, telling them about how you made it and wore it while praying for them the entire time.
You can make one to remind you to pray for others – with every bead representing a person on your prayer list. This came about because I had so many people on my prayer list that I needed some way of keeping up with it. I pulled out my bead boxes and selected a bead for each person on my list. This way, when I see it, I remember to pray for each person. I think it is also a good idea to have some “blank” beads, or ones that are not for any particular person. It is good to remember to pray for those who have nobody to pray for them. This reminds us that we are all part of one Body in Christ.
You can also make one for yourself to remind you of a goal that you would like to reach – stopping smoking, getting in better health, spending more time reading the Bible, etc. This is similar to offering a specific intention at Eucharist. Sometimes we need reminders to ourselves that we have made a commitment to improve ourselves.
No matter what you choose to do with your bracelet, it is my hope that you see this as yet another way to pray and connect with God. There are as many ways to pray as there are people on this Earth.
betsybeadhead 