Terror. That’s a word they never mentioned in art school.
Color theory, art history, figurative drawing, these were all pre-requisites; considered the very foundation of any good education in the arts.
Terror? Fear? Not so much. Neither of those words or any words like that, were ever uttered.
And yet… who doesn’t feel fear and even terror, at some point, when creating?
As children, we run headlong, without thinking, without concern, without fear, and we create. Using mud and sand and sticks and our fingers. We don’t pause and reconsider. We don’t think – but maybe this isn’t a good idea. Yet somewhere along the way we learn to be fearful. We learn that being creative opens us up to criticism, anger, even rage and perhaps violence. Suddenly what came naturally to all of us, no longer feels natural. We tell ourselves that we aren’t “creative types”. And yet, I would argue that we are born creative.
Every. Single. One. Of. Us.
Creating doesn’t have to be on paper, it can be an idea, a vision, a way of thinking. Each of us has a unique mind, shaped by our experiences, our interactions, what we love, our passions, where we were born, the families we were born into, the land upon which we were raised.
So where does this terror come from?
Fear of failure, fear of success, fear of rejection, fear, fear, fear. We are taught to be “sensible”. We are taught to not “dream too big”. We are taught to not “waste time”. We are taught that to create is a luxury. But what if what we were taught is wrong?
Moving through fear, even terror is one of the most exhilarating, transcendent things I’ve ever experienced. It is what connects me to other human beings. It is what connects me to my creativity. It bonds, unites, and can bring me to my knees. It’s what causes me to rediscover the unadulterated beauty and joy of my innocence, that exquisite time before I learned to feel fear.
If any of this resonates with you, consider enrolling in my new workshop: Finding Your Voice where we will use various prompts, words, exercises and even stitching to break though our fears and find ourselves in our work.
A documentation of the process… I’ve come to rely upon this documentation as it helps me figure the next step out. So this is how it began when I arrived and then I realized – Oh! I can create something SO much bigger!! Once that idea hit, I took all the other stuff off and began adding fabric. In fact, I doubled the size of the original piece, which was very, very exciting!!!
Beginning
An idea occurs to me: I can go bigger!
Bigger it is!
Now I have to find a sewing machine so that I can piece it together…
And then I took another photograph once it was all pieced, so that I could put it up on my computer to annotate it. This step is crucial and one that I’ve come to rely on. I find it makes all the difference in the world as I can literally draw on top of the photograph, delete, play, try any number of things, play some more, move shapes around, see what I think, before committing to anything.
Where do I go from here? Annotating makes all the difference in the world!
Testing the annotated ideas…
Continuing to look, play, try out ideas…
Stepping away. Zooming back in, stepping away… this is all part of the process.
Adding a bit of blue in the upper left corner.
Now what?
Who knows?! And that’s all part of the fun of the process. Adding, moving, playing, trying out other ideas…
It’s time for lunch, and then I will return and play some more, but all in all I’m loving the process and enjoying the movement of this piece. The trick is to keep going and not allow oneself to get bogged down with doubt! Continuing is key!! And loving every moment helps as well.
I cannot begin to describe how incredibly grateful and fortunate I am to be able to do this 2-week residency in this Chateau in Orquevaux. It is beyond anything I could have imagined. I have a studio, a real studio where I can splash paint around and create pieces that are much, much bigger than anything I could have dared imagine back in my workspace in New York City. It is like being in a dream. Seriously. And here’s the thing, I’m practically in tears because I’m just overwhelmed at how lucky I am to be able to do this, to have this opportunity, to have this kind of space, to be able to create without distractions, to be able to make a mess… it really is a dream come true.
My view…
My studio for the next 2 weeks.
This is the piece I brought with me and have begun working on…
Yesterday I did more wandering and in doing so got a bit turned around and so approached a woman of a certain age, who, in reply to my question, “Excusez moi, parlez vous anglais?” said, “Très mal!” Which means, “very badly!” I was just thrilled. No, seriously, my heart skipped a beat because I knew this meant that she would put up with my fumbling attempts to speak french AND would probably forgive my butchering of her beautiful language. I was then able to tell her I was lost and was trying to find the metro and did she know where the correct metro line was. Thankfully I was even able to understand her directions. Yay and Yay!
Later I had some trouble with my metro day pass and was able to get help from two lovely gentlemen who informed me (in French) that I mustn’t keep my metro ticket next to my cell phone as it deactivates it, but they issued me a new one, and off I went to visit the Catacombs! This last conversation was spoken in a combination of French and English, which I’m getting quite good at and people seem to understand, and are very kind and patient with me. Oh how I love France!
As I was a bit early for my tour of the Catacombs, I went to an exhibit of female photojournalists and another on the occupation of Paris during World War II.
Christine Spengler
Lee Miller
Catherine Leroy
Susan Meiselas
The exhibit on the occupation of Paris was also powerful.
And then it was time for my tour of the Catacombs!
I was supposed to then go to the Sacre Coeur, but I got onto the wrong train and didn’t realize until it was too late to get there in time, so that will have to be another day.
I spent the evening with friends. And on the way to their home I stopped in one of the many beautiful flower shops in Paris and brought them these.
It must be said that it was a rocky start as my attempts to speak French began with a faux pas.
I arrived in Paris, breezed through customs, got my bag, navigated the taxi line and after the required salutations said, Tu prends les credits carte? Which means “Do you take credit cards? except that I used the informal you, as though we were old chums, which is considered rude, and just a little disrespectful, thus solidifying the stereotype of the “ugly American.” My apologies to my fellow Americans out there.
There was a silent gasp. I swear I heard it. And then, being the elegant man that he undoubtedly was, he politely responded, using the formal you, with something like, Bien sûr, mais si vous avez en espèces, ce serait apprécié. Which means: Of course, but if you have cash, that would be appreciated. Realizing my mistake, I said, Je suis désolé, mon français est terrible, mais je fais de mon mieux. Meaning, I’m sorry, my French is terrible, but I do my best. I’m not sure that softened the blow, but I couldn’t think of what else to say. The remainder of the long cab ride to my hotel was spent in silence.
Needless to say, I paid with Euros.
Still, not to be deterred, I attempted to check in speaking French, but before I could get past the initial, bonjour, j’ai une réservation… he responded in English.
Now it must be noted that I’ve been practicing my French dutifully every single day for the past two years in anticipation of this trip and was really hoping to practice and maybe even have a conversation, albeit a rudimentary one.
However things went off the rails when the nice woman from housekeeping came to ask if I would like her to return with a vacuum cleaner because of some dirt that had fallen while the guy was trying to fix one of the black out blinds that wasn’t descending properly. Now I know the word for housekeeper, femme de ménage, but I have never heard the word for vacuum cleaner.so I finally said, Pardon, je ne sais pas ce ça – Pardon me, I don’t know what this is, Who could blame her when she looked around in confusion. What I meant to say was, I’m sorry I don’t understand what that means, but I was getting tired and couldn’t think clearly. She then apologized and continued in perfect English.
Even when I sat down to have un cafe at a little Parisian restaurant on the Seine, and I successfully ordered in French and even was able to have a two sentence back and forth, feeling flush with my success I was utterly deflated when the waiter began replying in English. Still, I insisted, somewhat comically to continue in my very bad French, while he replied in English and here’s the thing – just about everyone in Paris speaks English much better than I speak French. Seriously small children have a leg up on me. Though it must be noted, I did not attempt to carry on a conversation with any small children, all parents will be relieved to know that.
I did manage to take the metro, I was extremely pleased with myself, and even figured out how to transfer and purchase a ticket using one of the many machines they have. But when I tried to insert the ticket into the machine, all bets were off. A nice young man finally came to my assistance to tell me that, yes, you put the ticket into the slot and it spits it out just beyond. All was well.
There were countless instances when I couldn’t think quickly enough to respond in French to various things, such as when a group of young men passed me as I was walking along the Seine. One young man said, Bonjour! and then followed that up with, Tu es très jolie! You are very pretty. What I wanted to say was, Merci, mais je pourrais être ta mère, Thank you, butI could be your mother, but instead I just kept walking, which was probably just as well. Oh please, I qualify for senior citizen discounts!
Still, tomorrow is another day and who knows what lively conversations I may attempt?
For those of you who’d like to see some video and photos of my first day, you can watch this short YouTube video.
Have you been thinking about doing some Improvisational Stitching, but feel it’s a bit daunting? Do you also LOVE Dorset Buttons and wonder how dorset buttons like the ones pictured below get made or if you know how to make one like this, do you wonder what you’ll do with it?
Well, in my upcoming Stitch Along, I’m combining these two ideas! We will be thinking out of the box, applying elements of my improvisational stitching style with dorset buttons that are beyond wild. So if you like this idea, sign up because there are still some spaces left. AND I have thread and fabric kits made up, that you can purchase as well.
In other news… here are my new business cards and notecards just in time for my upcoming trip to France!
My new business cards and notecards!
I was awarded a 2-week artist’s residency at the Chateau d’Orquevaux, which is about 3 hours east of Paris and about 3 hours west of Basel, Switzerland. I have a vague memory of driving through Verdun heading south with my parents when I was in my early twenties, so I’m guessing I’ve been in this part of the world before, but that was a long time ago! I’m very, very excited and will be taking my new piece that I’ve just begun working on and that I talked about in this video (which I made for my Patrons and is unlisted, but you can see it here!)
And here it is after I annotated and moved things around, sewed the left side piece down and took away the upper left bit, as it seemed unnecessary, at least for now. This piece is BIG! At least big for me. It’s about 40″ x 52″.
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