I started writing this at the end of 2023 when I was feeling extreme burnout from a year with not enough rest but as I was rereading it yesterday I felt so much of this was still true. We spent the last two weeks of Night Class- a self run long form class centered on fostering an art practice- discussing connection and reflection. So much of my time as a teacher (and an artist) is spent sharing work, more literally in critiques and the culmination of a semester’s work when it comes to the college students. Work share and feedback tends to be less formulaic when it comes to the adult classes I teach but still helpful- and often the focus is not just on group feedback but how to trust ourselves as we move into giving ourselves feedback- which is most often where we get it.
Endings can be a really informative time in creative work- I try to focus the conversation less on ‘this is good, this is bad’ or ‘this went well and this was a failure’- and focus instead on the why. If this is good- then, why is it good? What about it works? If I don’t like x,y or z- why? Is it the way I used the paint? is it because I didn’t fully form the sketch first? Was I not using enough water, did I run out of my favorite paper, was the composition stagnant or did I not take enough risks.
I really try to encourage students and myself to search for language to help us be specific. It is often the hardest time to do so- because it feels raw. When you spend a week, a month or several months working on something, working towards something and it doesn’t meet your expectations- the why is important. Finding language is also something that we artist’s like to say we aren’t good at. I can’t write- so I paint.
This strange blog is proof that writing just takes time and practice- like anything else. So it makes sense that finding language for our work, for what we want to express, for how it makes us feel, for how it meets or doesn’t meet our expectations- all of that requires us trying and failing and trying again. Over time the language comes easier.
Whenever I don’t like something I made, sometimes it is the result of me not taking the time needed to meet my expectations. Problem solving takes time, making things and creating boundaries for weird new work requires time. There are of course a lot of factors- if I am learning a new medium, a new way to communicate often takes longer than I would like (see above).
Other times it’s because my expectations weren’t grounded in reality- I often have to remind myself that I should ask the tools I am using to do what they do best. I shouldn’t ask my watercolors to be pastels or expect my gouache to behave like acrylics. I can push the boundaries of what they are capable of- of course! But I shouldn’t be disappointed or mad when they are what they are. Or- and this is tough for me- maybe I didn’t take the time to build a good foundation for a good painting. For me, drawing and underdrawing is essential- even a small color mock, if I’m nasty. (small janet jackson refrerence for my old heads) So, if I don’t take the time to do those things, can I really expect the final result to be that great?
And, often, especially in times of transition in my work- it’s because I am still figuring it out! The idea I have in my head takes time to be realized- and that often means making several “bad” or unsuccessful works in my journey to meet my idea. Even the most established artists transition into new ideas, new questions, new modes of working- and they often have to make bad things as they do it. Nobody is immune to it- it’s just that more experienced artists are more adept at recognizing that for what it is and pushing forward with their work with more information.
The other aspect of this- of giving ourselves feedback and of listening to our gut- is to pay attention to and acknowledging success. This might feel like the hardest thing for artists to do, the most vulnerable thing to do.
Too often artists (or just humans) get comfortable living in the space of not being good enough that they fail to notice when they’re brilliant or on the right path. If feedback is always negative- how in the world will I realize when I am making something good? When I give myself feedback, even though it might feel like the most vulnerable thing to do, I have to acknowledge what IS working. Amidst the shit storm of the terrible painting I just made, I can promise that there is, in fact, something that I did well. Even if I can’t see it initially.
So I leave you with this- try this exercise with me- take out a painting that, when you think about it, makes you cringe and look at it. Give language to what isn’t right, of course, because that might feel like the easiest place to start. Maybe make a list or do some free writing. Then give language to one area that is working for you. Just one thing- but maybe you surprise yourself, and it isn’t as bad as you remember!
Once you do that- see if there is a way to carry forward (with intent) one of those good things into the next work.
Lova ya.
Thank you Lindsay! Finding the why about what is and isn't working in our art and getting specific about it is so helpful. From the composition and drawing to the way we execute with our materials is so important. I am still learning to build up from light to dark with skill. "Too dark, too fast," is something I keep top of mind as something to avoid as I build up layers.
Being able to talk about our art is a crucial skill as an artist. I need to get braver about that! I've been pulling out the YBR worksheets!