006 → ?????????everyone starts somewhere: a journal entry
when i was a junior in high school, i took my very first serious art class: ap 2d studio art. it was between that or beginners photography, and after an anxious meeting with my advisor at the end of my sophomore year, he had make the decision for me. he told me, art can’t be that hard! it’ll look great on paper. before i could see him again to tell him i wanted to take photography, it was too late. he had finalized my schedule and summer began.
the reasons for my anxiety and fear was because of my intense fear of failure and my obession with perfectionism. at 16-17 years old i had mastered the art of comparison and, like any other teenager, buried myself in my insecurities.
i had not taken an art class since elementary school, and because i had only been doodling in my notebooks between all that time, i felt like such a fake. this class was the first time i had ever heard the words “breadth” and truthfully i had no real foundation to actually form my own portfolio. i had never even drawn a sphere. the friends i would make in that class were incredible illustrators and had already found their artistic voices. i compared myself to them and the other students often. they just were able to create these magical pieces, while i spent most of the year struggling to find confidence as an artist. the fear of embarassment and failure kept me in a box.
i was so afraid of not being good enough to the point where i was almost discouraging myself to create. for a good chunk of the year, i spent my time just doing work from other classes. perfectionism had driven me to avoid art completely, until one day it all just switched.
we began experiementing with collage.
even though the class was more self driven and much of the time was alloted for us to work individually to build our portfolios for the exam, she would allow us to take time away to try new mediums. collage was one of them. i still rememeber the experience of smelling rubber cement for the first time. the absolute luxury of being able to change your mind after glueing a clipping on one place and wanting it to move it to another. i had graduated from elmer’s invisible sticks, and began working like a true... rubber cementer. i was hooked.
we first got our intial clippings out of these old musty art history books, but one day my teacher dug around her supply closet and brought out this dusty storage box. when she opened it, it was filled to the top with old rave flyers and miscellenous cards from the 90s/2000s. i still remember my first initial thoughts: “holy shit. ms. f is so fucking cool.”. i spent that entire class just rummaging and collecting. i didn’t care that my fingers began to feel all puffy and swollen from decades old dust. this was when i became addicted to working with things i could directly touch.
later in the year, we started working with oil pastels and it was another match made in heaven! i loved the way it melted under my fingers. my final pieces submitted were all oil pastel on canvas. i loved loved loved it, and found myself working with through the end of the semester. and this sudden boost had basically got me to where i am today.
as i navigate through this big transition of my life (moving to a new city, starting grad school, taking CHARGE...), everything feels fresh and new. quite frankly, i feel like a baby learning how to walk again. you would think all the mental suffering endured during 4 years of undergrad would be enough...it is not. but i find comfort and solace in knowing that my younger self would be so proud of where i am today. that goes the same for you.
i know how it feels to be an imposter, i don’t think this feeling will ever end. but having worked with other artists who have felt/feel the same, it is validating to know that we all start somewhere. i look back at the work i made when i first started and while it’s not something i’m suuuuuper proud of, i appreciate it in the same way a mother appreciate’s their child’s kindergarten crafts. to me, my earliest work is an endearing record of growth and transformation.
it’s very easy for me to fall into a rut, face down, dark....wet....cold. artist block is a very real thing. when i’m facing a total loss of inspiration, i try to remind myself how far i’ve come. these images serve as a reminder that the inspiration has always been there. i just had to find the right ways to express it.
by no means do i think i am qualified at all to give advice but this list i made has helped me and it might help you:
- let it go or it will drag you
- no one can tell you who you can and can’t be
- being scared is normal
- you’re not defined by your skill or talent
- you’re not defined by the tools you use
- focus on your drive to create
- pretend like you already made it
- scream into the void if it helps