On becoming an artist

Trying to be(come) an artist is something I’d never before contemplated. Being firmly rooted and immersed in the corporate world for decades didn’t exactly foster that kind of thinking, and I had never thought of myself as a creative person. After my childhood, where creativity was tolerated, but my parents were more focused on the importance of reading books, it became something that could at most be a hobby. And I didn’t have any hobbies. I started hopping the world map for work in my early twenties, and moved around quite a bit in the following decades. Books and reading always stuck with me though; I considered them pretty much my only hobby if you can call it that. Any occasional sewing was limited to practical purposes, like a duvet cover or pillows. It never came close to developing into a hobby.

Fast forward, here I am. Sometimes it seems the creativity is just bursting out of the seams, and then at other times I’m struggling, doubting myself, and questioning if anything that I create could ever stand the judgment against professional artistic work. I’ve learned that’s normal, part of the journey, and that most (if not all) people have that at least sometimes. Reading about artists and how they think and feel about their work has been enormously helpful. I cannot say these doubts don’t occur any more; they do. But I’ve gotten better at managing and steering them into a more positive trajectory rather than the rabbit hole they used to go in, which would often lead to days of ignoring my creative work out of fear it was never going to be good enough anyway.

A recent brief panic came right after I launched my website and first blog post, something I had put a lot of work and anticipation in. After the initial euphoria had worn off -  it was wonderful to get so many encouraging and positive messages from friends and other quilters - I fell into a bit of a hole, a “now what?” type of panic.  I felt the pressure was on to continue to deliver. I recognized the feeling; it was similar to what sometimes happened after finishing a big corporate project, or winning a much coveted contract. A lot of work and effort ends in a high, and then - at least for a little while - it seems hard to get things back in balance. My corporate job would not leave much time to retreat and doubt myself. But with no projects, deadlines, or demanding clients, I found this a lot harder. 

During a weeklong workshop I took with renowned quilt artist Maria Shell in the Fall of last year, she said some things that really stuck with me, and I go back to my notes from that week on a regular basis. One of the things I learned from Maria was to trust the process of showing up every day and do the work. And that with anything you’re working on, while you may not know where you’re going, it’s not about the destination but about the journey.

I’ve since also learned and accepted that not everything I make has to be beautiful, which is so subjective anyway, or even perfect (is there any such thing?), or have artistic quality and be worthy of exhibiting. The most consummate musicians still have to practice scales every day, and since I’m nowhere even near approaching virtuoso status on so many levels, I need to practice, practice, and then practice some more. And then occasionally a worthy piece may emerge, often taking weeks to evolve on the design wall, and ending up being something totally different than what it started out as. 

Does that mean I’m an artist? Am I allowed to call myself an artist even at this early stage? I thought about that a lot. But ultimately it was advice from Maria that solidified it for me. She found that if you get up every day and make something creative, you’re an artist. I thought that was simple and powerful, and at that point I decided I could embrace the label. To do that with confidence was a journey in itself though. It came hesitantly at first. I still felt like a bit of a fraud calling myself an artist. But by putting it out there more and more, and working through the vulnerability and self-consciousness it created, my confidence is growing. That doesn’t mean I’ve arrived at an end point in any way. On the contrary, it’s a continuous journey of learning and practicing, of studying design and color theory, of immersing myself in the works of other artists, including so many modern quilters I admire and follow, and looking for inspiration in my immediate surroundings. So I’m practicing my scales, and when ups and downs occur I still try to show up every day and do the work, and tell myself to focus on enjoying the journey rather than looking at the destination. 

Thank you for joining me on this path and continuing to read my blog. I hope you find the right dose of creativity for yourself today, this week, or this month, in whatever form it may come to you. 

I’m off to QuiltCon for the next few days in Austin, TX. For my non-quilting friends, QuiltCon is the largest modern quilting show of its kind, showing around 600 modern quilts and featuring 4 days of workshops and lectures led by leading designers and quilters, as well as dozens of vendors for some shopping fun (who doesn’t need more fabric, tools and notions!). My quilt “Extraterrestrial” will be on display in the exhibition, which is super exciting and I’m grateful and humbled to find my work exhibited in the company of so many talented modern quilt artists.