Is your art a path to transformation? Or a way of bypassing your truth?

In this post:

1. The limitations of paint parties and traditional art classes
2. Why learning techniques isn't always enough for artistic growth
3. Common struggles artists face in finding their unique voice
4. The need for deeper, more personal artistic prompts
5. Why create art that's honest, healing, and transformative

​Listen to this post (or watch the video at the end):

I love the safety, ease and simplicity of a wine-and-paint party. I always learn something new, and it is nice to just focus on the painting process itself without worrying about what it means or what I want to say. It is enjoyable and relaxing, and a little silly. None of us take ourselves too seriously and maybe we are also all a little tipsy. What a joy!

But the resulting painting is not my art. 

I feel no connection to what I make in a paint party. 

I find a lot of more advanced art classes are similar - you are learning something about the teacher's approach and technique. I have been frustrated in art classes I’ve taken in the last few years because techniques, skills or materials aren’t what I want to learn - no fault of the instructor. I was chasing a shiny new thing, not understanding what I needed. 

For example, a few years ago I took an online printmaking class. I was really excited about meeting some other artists and refreshing my artistic life. All of the techniques were ones I have already used and even taught myself. There was not really much for me to learn. That wasn’t what I was seeking, but that’s what the class was. I realized this too late, when I asked the teacher if there was any kind of prompt she had to offer us for something to explore in our prints. She looked at me blankly - clearly that was my responsibility. 

But it was also my need. I wasn’t searching for a new medium through which to express myself, I was searching for techniques for how to express myself in a new way using materials I was already skilled in. 

The teacher  is there to share their wisdom, and often they can’t help you find your own unique way. It is like a vision quest, perhaps. Is it something you must do on your own?

I think a lot of artists have the “curse of knowledge” when it comes to this. They know that if they just start working, new directions will emerge from the work itself. I know this too. But sometimes that stops working. Sometimes you really have come to the end of a vein of gold. 

For years I struggled with questions like:

• I have a thousand ideas, how do I pick one?
• How do I express awkwardness in my art without drawing a nerdy girl standing in the corner? Is there any other way to explore that?
• How do I explore my spiritual side in my art without it looking like an ad for some kind of quantum law of attraction herbal supplements?
• Is it okay for me to explore archetypes in my art if I don’t know anything about Jung?
• Am I allowed to make art about my eco anxiety, or my hesitation to be more social justice oriented if I’m not an activist?
• How do I synthesize my intellectual interests with my spiritual yearning with my day-to-day experience that I want to express my feelings about? Do I have to pick one? How do I pick?

And the only advice I ever got was “the answer is in the studio, the answer is in the work”
Yes, but I felt like my tires were in mud - I was doing the work but didn’t feel like I was getting anywhere.

Earlier this year I was creating “creativity catalysts.” The intention was to offer an open ended concept to explore. We have art classes to learn technique, things like Inktober that offer specific noun-based prompts or illustrators. I wanted a different kind of prompt, one that took me deeper into who I am as an artist and my artistic destiny. Not a map, but a stronger hint. 

I wanted to go on a journey, to dig deeper in my experience of myself through some kind of lens, to catharticly express my suppressed feelings and current life experiences onto the paper/canvas/board and then to resolve it through art. I’d always been able to do that but for some reason stopped being able to (I know the reason. It’s staring at me in my peripheral vision as I write this, chuckling at my avoidant drama).

I don’t want my art to be a bypass. I don’t want to suppress or overlook what is deeper inside me. I want it to be an experience that heals. Coach Vanessa Carvalho in a recent conversation said it well when she said “I think that there is a big connection of the soul between using your hands to create something and curing yourself inside.”

I want my art to reflect both the pain and the peace. Bittersweet. Gallows humor. Perfectly imperfect.

I use the word “deep” a lot when I am writing about this. It has never felt like quite the right word. 
I think the right word is “honest.”

I want to offer a journey where we can be honest and vulnerable about our lived experience in the now, get it out in a cathartic way, and then use that as fodder for a transformational artistic experience. 
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This is what I am creating. If you are interested, join my email list (and get a freebie! Many freebies!!)