Messing Around With Something New

 I came to a realization through therapy recently:

I hadn't had real live, actual fun, creating art for a long time.

I know that sounds odd to people who have been following this blog for a number of years, but it's true.

Looking back about nine years, I realize I started selling my ceramic art too soon. It wasn't really ready for public distribution, but I had a reason: I was told I needed to bring in money.

It wasn't an unreasonable request.

Practically speaking, making art costs money. Making ceramics costs an inordinate amount of money, and that's no exaggeration. The clay, the raw materials, glazes, brushes, the potter's wheel, the plaster table, the banding wheels, the cost of firing, the kilns, for God's sake! All of it costs money. Much more than most people realize.

I didn't realize it, but it slowly started to suck the joy of creating art down the drain.

Losing my studio put a stop to everything, and the next year was taken up by both the aftermath of the divorce, processing the Jerry Springer/Real Housewives nature of it, and unexpected serious health challenges. My surgery made it impossible for me to lift anything over 15 pounds for several months. For someone as active as I am, it was sheer torture.

Looking back, that forced break from art helped to clear space in my head for something new.

Recently, I was fortunate enough to connect with a local ceramics studio and start making ceramics again. This time, though, I'm primarily making for myself. I'm trying new techniques, pushing old boundaries and above all, giving myself both time and the permission to make crappy art. I'm in a place where I can learn from a teacher or several teachers again, and that spurs my growth and makes me eager to get to the studio on class nights.

Which brings me to going back to drawing, something at which I have become extremely rusty!

One of the goals I have is to re-engage in making fine art in addition to my Halloween wares. I've had a sketchbook around for a while and hadn't gotten around to using it, so I decide to bust it out and just start sketching ideas for both fine art and some new Hallowe'en things. Some of it is absolute garbage, as is to be expected, but some shows promise. Like all muscles which are achy from disuse, I anticipate my drawings will get better with practice.

In order to stretch a little more, I got a set of watercolor markers. I've never worked with watercolors, let alone brush pens, but it's been a fun, loose way to get back into drawing. Again, I'm giving myself permission to make bad art, and that's freed up my head tremendously!

Merging what I'm learning from playing with drawing and watercolors with my interest in working with acrylics is going to create some new, and above all, fun, things.

I've made it a goal to use one page in my sketchbook every day, and for the most part, I've been able to do it. It's odd to be working in watercolor when I've never done it, but the results haven't been terrible.

It's not earth-shattering or groundbreaking, but it's a step in the right direction. It's part of rediscovering and reclaiming who I was before I allowed things to go sideways and let someone else determine my worth. That's a mistake I will never make again.