Category Archives: Connection

Occupational Hazard

While catching up on my blog feed this week I ran into two moderate length videos on the Sketchbook Skool blog: Part 1: The Creative Block and Part 2: Turning Problems into Solutions. Filed under “Art Therapy Thursdays”, they feature illustrator Koosje Koene, drawing teacher and co-founder of the Sketchbook Skool, laying bare the struggle of her current creative dry spell. My first reaction was empathy for how deeply this is affecting her (who among us hasn’t been in her shoes at one time or another?), and then I couldn’t help but think how brave she is to share her struggle so publicly. That in itself may be part of the answer.

Scissors © Elizabeth Fram

Acknowledging the problem is one thing, but how do you find your way out of it? Both her musician husband Pascal Oetiker and, in the second video, Danny Gregory offer concrete suggestions of what has helped them in the past: a) return to basics, b) give yourself a problem to solve, and c) get out of your regular routine by exposing yourself to new stimuli. But it seems the core of what she is experiencing is the lack of joy in working, which makes it all the more scary.

I was reminded of a story I heard a couple of years ago on NPR about Sting as he was emerging from a decade-long creative drought. His TED talk about his experience drills home the fact that it’s a phenomenon to which everyone is susceptible. That fact doesn’t make the issue any less painful, but it’s helpful to hear how others have coped. Brain Pickings, one of the best resources for exploring just about any idea in depth, quotes Chuck Close, Isabelle Allende, and Tschaikovsky on the subject as a preface to referencing two books that tap the knowledge and recommendations of 90 and 50 artists, respectively:

Break Through!: Proven Strategies to Overcome Creative Block and Spark Your Imagination by Alex Cornell
Creative Block: Get Unstuck, Discover New Ideas. Advice and Projects from 50 Successful Artists by Danielle Krysa

What works for me is to first be forgiving of myself, take a break, and then just start something, anything. The physical, repetitive movement of working — whether via the rhythmic action of the needle going down and coming up while stitching, or mindfully following the contour of whatever happens to be in front of me with pen on paper — seems to be a tonic in itself. Work begets work, letting the ideas begin to flow, however slowly.

Coffee © Elizabeth Fram

I have no doubt that Koosje Koene will see her way out of this current slump and will re-find her creative mojo. And while the very thought of it is scary for any of us, it’s comforting to know we aren’t alone and there are resources to help stave off any future dry spells.

Final Note: In compiling this post and adding the links, I see that Koosje has added another video to the series, The Creative Block – Art Therapist #3, a discussion with writer Suzan Colón. I realize it’s a big ask for you to watch all three of these videos, but consider filing the links for the next time you may find yourself in your own creative rut.

It’s That Time of Year

‘Back to school’ is in the air. Happily, if you’ve got a bit of an itch to acquire new skills – or just fine-tune the ones you already have, online options for continuing education are affordable and convenient, making it easier than ever to be part of a learning community.

Desk Clutter ©2016 Elizabeth Fram For the most part clutter makes me crazy, yet have to admit that the usual state of my desk is more disaster zone than zen garden. But, if I take the time to pay attention, there are some interesting compositions lurking in the mess.

I first learned about Craftsy from a couple of my favorite sketch bloggers who were branching out to offer classes via that platform. Over the past couple of years I’ve signed up for several courses and have been extremely happy — I’ve learned a lot and felt they were an excellent value. Consisting of a series of videos, you can progress at your own speed, have lifetime access to the class, and even interact with the teacher. Unlike many other courses, sign-up is on-going so it’s possible to begin any time you like, and lessons are downloadable for off-line access. I love having the ability to start my art day early by watching a lesson or two while working out on the treadmill or stationery bike. Reasonably priced (most classes are under $40), they also have significant sales from time to time.

I have friends who have mentioned various online classes that they’ve taken and enjoyed, so it’s definitely a growing trend that accommodates our busy lives with no limitations on location.

Seltzer ©2016 Elizabeth Fram Sometimes I can make sense out of the jumble of stuff that keeps getting pushed aside on my desk. It’s an opportunity to both feed my affinity for organizing a subject toward the outer edges of the frame (as written about in this post), and for thinking about rhythms of space and value.

Here is a short list of teachers I am aware of (some on Craftsy, some not) that, while I don’t have personal experience with all of them, I wouldn’t hesitate to pursue any of their classes if it addressed my needs. Links can be found on their sites.

Marc Taro Holmes of Citizen Sketcher
Shari Blaukopf of The Sketchbook
Stephanie Bower of Drawing Perspectives
Liz Steel
Sketchbook Skool, brainchild of Danny Gregory that features numrous well-known and respected artist and designer “fakulty”.
Jane Davies
Suhita Shirodkar

If you have an online instructor or course to recommend, please share with all of us in the comments.

Share the Wealth

I have found that most artists are very generous with their knowledge. They are happily willing to share hard-won lessons from their studios, easing the road for others who are interested enough to ask. And with the internet making it possible to be more closely connected to an ever-wider creative circle, the task of addressing our own artistic challenges is eased through exposure to how others face theirs.

I have been working on this piece intermittently since February. The process seems to just drag on and on. I have definitely been in this spot before, so I know that patience and persistence are key. In the meantime, I’ve been grateful for other textile work and my drawing practice, which have provided a welcome reprieve. But that doesn’t solve the fact that I still have to finish this particular challenge.

Happily, two things this past week have contributed to getting me back on track. First and foremost, a lengthly and honest critique with a friend/artist whose ideas and feedback never fail me. I know I’ve said it before, but I can’t stress enough how important it is for all of us to have a solid bond with another artist, allowing for a frank back-and-forth about work in progress. The distance of an unbiased eye is invaluable. Hopefully you have that kind of artistic partnership as well.

Secondly, I fortuitously happened across this short, 2 minute video, recently uploaded to his blog by painter Nicholas Wilton. His suggestion to “listen to your work” speaks directly to the challenge I’m wrestling with at the moment. I was introduced to Wilton’s paintings, writing, and video clips last month by another artist friend and couldn’t be more grateful! His point of being fully “in” a work and truly listening to what it has to say hits the proverbial nail on the head. The more I read back through his archives, the more impressed I am with his ideas and generosity. Among other things, it is so important to know that certain issues are universal, no matter what level of achievement one attains.

So, I’m back at it — not thrilled yet, but finding a rhythm. We’ll see; this may be one that ends up, at best, as a good learning experience. But regardless, I am grateful for the unselfishness of others and the safety net to be found in a sense of shared camaraderie.

❖

And speaking of camaraderie, I can’t resist sharing this uplifting clip of the “Graffiti Grandma”, Luísa Cortesão in Lisbon, Portugal, who found joy in making street art by tagging walls with her buddies. Another reminder of the importance of community and to not take our work – or ourselves – too seriously.

Creative Yoga

In January I was invited to participate in a group art project online. There are 14 of us (a few I know, most I don’t), living in five states across the country and Saskatchewan, Canada. The directive is fairly lenient: we have a one-word prompt and 60 days to create a 12″ x 12″ interpretation/exploration of that word. Other than that very general guideline, the sky’s the limit. There will be 6 prompts in 2016, the first one was “water”.

There is to be no sharing of ideas or work with the other participants until the specified reveal date two months after the start. At that time finished images are uploaded to a closed blog, allowing the participants to see all 14 pieces. Each artist may choose how much or little to share about her process, opening the door to feedback and dialogue. The overall idea is to foster creativity while developing relationships with other artists.

Spoon in Water ©2016 Elizabeth Fram I was also exploring aspects of the prompt in my daily sketches. This example studies the apparent shift in an object that is sitting in water when you look at it through glass, seeing where it breaks the surface.

While I have more than enough to keep me busy in the studio at the moment, I jumped at the chance to be a part of this project for a couple of reasons:

I’ve learned that shaking up my process and working within limitations can create the most fertile ground for growth
I didn’t want to miss an opportunity to discuss art with a variety of folks I don’t know (yet). I want to be exposed to new viewpoints and a wider range of ideas to consider and learn from.

Tidal Seep ©2016 Elizabeth Fram Abstraction invariably wins out; this is my finished piece. With a subject as open-ended as “water”, it seemed as though any specific image I could think of limited the scope of what I wanted to express. I didn’t want to be confined to a single, visual “snapshot”, rather I wanted to rely more on water’s essence: movement, color, texture, temperature, etc. As this piece evolved, it began to suggest the way that, as the tide moves in, water flows between rocks to create tidepools. I took that idea and ran with it.

This is another great example of how the internet works to break down the walls of isolation for artists, providing a different form of collaboration that is bound to be interesting.

And there’s no denying that a healthy stretch is good for all of us.

Further reading: It’s wise to embark on any endeavor with your eyes wide open. This article by Brian Sherwin outlines some of the pros and cons of online art groups.

Contemporary Salon

Last weekend I attended what seemed to me to be a re-creation of the salons of a century ago — a gathering of writers and visual artists, drawn together to enjoy an evening exchanging ideas. It was a houseful of “movers and shakers” from across the state and, as a model for connection between peers, an inspiration.

Parts of the evening extended far beyond my comfort zone. As a guest of one of the invitees, in a gathering of 50+ people I didn’t know, I found it awkward to insert myself into the tightly animated circles of folks who were busy reconnecting. I am much more at ease, as I think many are, when I have the advantage of knowing at least a small handful of people at a party.

But, and this is a huge but, it was worth the stretch. The evening began with three 20-minute presentations by Vermont artists whose names are each impressively adorned with an awe-inspiring set of credentials and honors. The first talk was by one of our hosts, Alisa Dworsky, an architect whose artistic practice also spans drawing, printmaking, sculpture and installation. Next was artist/designer/educator Matthew Monk, who spoke about his collages of found refuse, culled on daily walks. The third and final presenter, artist and writer Sayward Schoonmaker, works with language, expressing it in such a way that it crosses dimensions.

I had studied their websites and combed the internet to read what I could about their work beforehand, but even so, there is no substitution for being able to hear an individual describe in person the ideas and means behind their work. Inflection tells a story you cannot glean from print. Not only can one gain a greater understanding of what is being presented, but a vibrant discussion provides greater potential for drawing parallels between elements from their experience and your own, resulting in deeper understanding via that connection.

Despite being a bit of a fish out of water, I am so grateful to have had the opportunity to experience the occasion. Ultimately, I met and had brief discussions with several people I’m sure I never would have crossed paths with otherwise. Admittedly, I still have work to do on navigating the fine art of “cold call” social schmoozing, but that’s okay.

In hindsight, when I was researching the evening’s presenters I should have thought to ferret out this article by Alyson Stanfield about mingling at art openings and parties. At least now I have the link for future reference…and you do too.

A Sense of Belonging

I’m always intrigued by the way artists navigate their world, and find reinforcement in the knowledge that even the most celebrated put one foot in front of the other, slogging away in the studio to define their path, just like the rest of us. Living in the digital age, we have a bevy of available resources that allow us to better understand how others approach their work, while simultaneously uncovering similarities between those practices and our own.

This week I have been reading selected archives from the Penland Sketchbook (blog of the Penland School of Crafts), which led me to the websites of several young artists who have been part of the Penland Core Fellowship program. I was captivated by the work and thought process of Angela Eastman and recommend you treat yourself to some time at her website to see what she is making and to read her well-considered ideas. Bearing in mind the amount of time I devote to placing thousands of hand stitches, I was particularly taken with this quote: “In a society where so much focus is placed on personal gain, I find beauty in the collective efforts of individual marks, and inspiration in the lessons in humility that they teach”.

I have also begun Richard Shiff’s book Ellsworth Kelly New York Drawings 1954-1962 and am fascinated by his discussion of Kelly’s “…use of drawing by chance…” In the ensuing essay, Shiff quotes Kelly: “I realized I didn’t want to compose pictures, I wanted to find them”. What an engaging thought; it makes total sense to me. I am often struck by the unplanned compositions that appear as I randomly place my larger work within a smaller frame to stretch for stitching. Those unexpected configurations can be surprisingly successful and several times I have discarded more than 50% of a piece in favor of the more effective alternative.

Finally, I have been binge-listening to Antrese Wood’s podcast Savvy Painter, recently recommended by my friend and extraordinary painter/draughtsperson Csilla Sadlock, (if you follow only one link here today, make it Csilla’s). Each of Wood’s podcast episodes is filled with down-to-earth nuggets offered by the interviewed artist, who honestly spills the beans about both the high and low points of her/his practice, underlining that hard work and challenges are part of the deal for everyone.

Not ready to show the full piece yet, the images today are detail shots of what I have been working on this week (basting stitches and all). I am finding that all the elements mentioned above (humility learned through a myriad of stitches, being open to chance, and finding solace in the fact that even the most successful artists toss a certain percentage of finished work) enhance my sense of connection and inspire me as I work, comfortable in the knowledge that I belong to a sort of tribe. I’ll bet you can relate.