feed-our-souls-too

[feed-our-souls-too]

When you get so in your creative rhythm you forget you need to ingest art, culture, life, to be inspired and that’s probably why you’re feeling creatively burnt out.

Go to a museum, go grab coffee, go for a walk, out with friends, out dancing, go live a little.

[feed-our-souls-too]

You'll Never Feel Ready...... Or Maybe You Will?

Or: How I Learned to be an Artist by Being Ok with Where I Am Right Now.

I never posted my 2022 reflection. I got to it later in January, rather than over my time off between Christmas & New Years, & things started to get busier at work - which was followed by a year with lots of changes and frustrations. It was pretty draining, though I think it's moving me towards some important growth. And my reflection on last year feels like a good touchstone for what I hope for 2024.

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I think I stumbled into my yearly reflection blog. I couldn't seem to find something that felt right to write about before now, but I was praying and I realized it was obvious. Gratitude.

I'm grateful that I'm where I am as an artist and a person. That I actually am doing art on most days. That I finish most of what I start and what I don't finish isn't neglected out of anxiety but simply too many ideas and too little time. That I feel like, if I were given a project, I could probably figure out how to do it, instead of just panicking; I have some ways of processing through a project that make it doable. That I enjoy art as much as I do when I could be sick of it or just made anxious by it. That I did a real commission and wasn't too excited about it but now I'm almost finished and it was a great experience! Challenging but good. Maybe good for me because it wasn't my go-to thing to draw and it was challenging, but it was good. I've come a long way and I'm getting to a place where I feel ready to seek out doing art professionally.

People always said "You'll never feel ready."

However, they meant we'll never feel perfectly equipped, with every skill and every technique and every way of processing through how a project might be done. Of course, I'm not completely ready! I never will be unless I start being able to tell the future! (hahaha- *how terrifying that thought is...). I couldn't handle my anxiety, so I couldn't finish things - so of course, I wasn't ready. I didn't have any discipline, so there's no way I would've gotten everything done on time - so of course I wasn't ready. I was only creating based on my whims, with no emphasis on learning and growing so I didn't have the tools I needed to work through challenges - so of course I wasn't ready.

The sense of being ready that I have now isn't about the end result being perfection; it's about knowing myself and knowing that I can trust myself when I encounter challenges to stay and not run. Really, it's that I trust God, that He can hold me together through the storm of anxiety. That His strength is greater than the influence of my brokenness.

I guess If I were to say something to those out there who might need it, it would be: If you don't feel ready, then say "No" to being rushed. Take time to ask, "Why? Why aren't you ready?" It could be simple fear and that you just need to dive in. Or it could be that you need to work on yourself first, to be a healthy person, to create out of a good place instead of a bad one. Keep in mind that you have time. You don't have to become a well-paid artist tomorrow. There are ways to get by in the mean time if you must. Learn to be ok with where you are first.

I'm surprisingly frustrated by how long it took me to realize all this and how long people tried to help me get "out there" without asking me if I wanted it or was ready for it. I guess because it feels like they all assumed they knew best without really talking to me. Saying "I'm not ready," was so easily dismissed by everyone as just an excuse as they wielded their "encouraging" platitude of "You'll never be ready, just do it!" It felt invalidating. And then, instead of working on myself, I tried to push myself to be the artist I felt people expected me to be instead of working on the artist and the person I was to someday be ready, to be healthy.

Being a healthy artist now though ("healthy," remember, not "perfect"), I know I owe to God. It sounds sort of over the top to say this, but I don't know if I'd be here if not for recognizing my anxiety for what it was while having art as a tangible way of dealing with it, and it is God who put artistic tendencies in me and equipped me to overcome my anxiety. Not that I don't still deal with it, but it doesn't rule me very often anymore. I can feel the symptoms of panic while knowing it's just my body reacting and I don't have to let my heart and mind follow along in its wake, joining in the panic.

None of that guarantees I'll be the artist I want to be... not in this life, I guess. To say "You have time," when you don't have the hope of Heaven is to say, in a sense, "Pretend you have time - because none of us really knows how much time we have left." And that's true. For me, however, I know God has made me an artist for a purpose, even if it's only for our mutual joy, and there will be plenty time for that in Heaven, in the presence of the Fount of All Creativity. When I say "I have time, so I don't have to become a successful artist tomorrow," there's a degree of contentment with where I'm at (Art is no longer something I'm trying to leverage to escape the things I fear), as well as an acknowledgment that, if not in this life, then in Heaven at least I will have opportunities to be an artist. I'll be given the chance not to make something of this world, but of the Next, to be creative in ways I couldn't even conceive of on this Earth, to be shaped purely and without the filter of sin by the Creator that made all from pure imagination. This excites me but also brings me peace. Peace, because of knowing that I am not racing against a deadline, that I won't "peak" in this life, that I won't run out of creativity, that someday I'll create freely in full safety with no worry of judgment & for the pure joy of it.

I don't have to be everything and all of it now, this instant, or else be a 'Failure' (...whatever that really means when we often learn and grow via failing). There is time and it is worth it to accept that time (& the challenges of being ok with being in that time). It is worth it. We don't have to rush.��Take your time.

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How apt this is. Little did I know that 2023 would be a blur of tiredness and frustration that pushed back my art dreams another year. Yet I also know that I've grown a fair amount: I've improved with color, tried out new stylistic things, realized some of the hallmarks of my style, finished my 2nd paid project, completed a two-piece paid project that wasn't commissioned by someone I know, and made art more consistently (somehow!) among other things.

So what does 2024 have ahead? Of course, I don't really know, but maybe it'll look a little, ironically, like overcoming my fear. Yes, I make more freely. I finish artwork all the time now (a thing I couldn't make myself do a few years back). But it's so easy to be comfortable. I hope 2024 looks like putting myself out there in spite of my fear and seeing at least a little reward back from that - whatever that looks like.

[feed-our-souls-too]

things i did that forced me to be a better artist:

used a reference for everything

thinner line art (you think thats thin? go thinner….)

sketch, then do a cleaner sketch, THEN start finalizing

THUMBNAILS

color research, picking a set palette or light/dark for each work

you like that pose? redo it one more time

USE A DAMN REFERENCE

do not rely on stylization as an excuse for anatomy

draw the goddamn background you coward

just draw the hand- a bad hand is better than a hidden hand

the rule of thirds WORKS

take a considerable break between sketch and lines/paint

know that art takes longer as you get better at it

draw the seams on clothes

stop aiming for accuracy and focus on fluidity and motion, accuracy will come with practice of those two concepts

just…do the chiaroscuro. just DO IT. no excuses it always works

stop making excuses, make yourself an art schedule/set weekly(or daily) art goals and just DO IT.

[feed-our-souls-too]

This guy has some pretty good videos on things like procrastination, imposter syndrome, healthy creativity. Go check out his stuff!

[feed-our-souls-too]

This is the best art-related podcast I’ve listened to. It’s thought provoking, funny, and does exactly what it says on the tin: pep you up to make art.

[feed-our-souls-too]

“I began to look both at who I was and, being an artist myself, I really wanted to know where this self-expression came out of, and I was having trouble locating it actually. The more I focused on myself, the less I could find myself. . . . . . This experience of beauty brings us out of ourselves. Doctor Elaine Scarry...has written that the experience of beauty forces us to admit our own errors. That there is some transcendent something larger than ourselves. So the world that we created, it’s been too small, in a box. But when you experience something beautiful, that forces us to admit our own errors, takes us out of that box. Whatever the mystery result of that, we get out of the box and start exploring. That’s the capacity we have to develop in order to overcome many failures and disruptions.”

[feed-our-souls-too]

Finding the Horizon Line

Or a 2020 - and Beyond - Reflection. 

Now, bear with me as I dive into the past a bit...

I was looking for a forever-escape in stuff like too many breaks to watch anime, too much unproductive time on social media, and too much time just worrying - the things that won’t change anything about me or about the things that send me looking for such escape in the first place. . . It never truly occurred to me that work could be good in and of itself, that it could be something worthwhile, and that my efforts could pay off so much better than my deceptively hopeful reprieves. I won’t always like it, but that doesn’t mean that the work can’t be worth it and it certainly doesn’t mean it won’t ever be enjoyable ever again. Maybe I don’t have to live for a forever-escape that I can’t give myself anyway. Maybe I can live for better things. . . . Forever-escape in the truest sense won’t happen till Heaven, but maybe the process of learning to shut out the anxiety that will inevitably come in this life (not shutting it out by avoiding, but by dealing with it by recognizing the lies and remembering what’s really true) is exactly what it means to escape for real while we wait for Heaven.

(from For the Love of Escape, 2017)

God has made reflection a theme in my life this fall. What do I mean by reflection? It’s taking the time to look at how you’re doing and why things are the way they are. It’s looking at the past and seeing not just the failures, but taking the time to see the little victories. Things like recognizing that every time you get back up after failing, you’re learning perseverance, and that’s half the battle (and a victory!). That every time you are able to take a look at why you failed and learn from it, instead of feeling too defeated to even consider it, you’re making progress. . . What’s all that reflection do? It gives us tools to work with in the changes we need to make, and encouragement to fuel us on that journey.

(from Failure, My Friend, 2018)

I think one of the biggest hindrances for me was that I wanted instant success. I did not want to deal with failure. I knew some things took time but I felt like I was constantly racing a clock. It was merely a clock that I imagined, a clock that was really just there to tell me that the longer it took me to become what I wanted to be, the more of a failure I was. And of course I was anxiety driven as well. The longer it took me to get out of whatever job I was working in for financial support and into art, the more I despaired about whatever job I was working in the meantime. Art was supposed to be my escape from all the scary things in the world that were unfamiliar. It was only when I began to be content in the rest of my life and learned how to cope with the sucky jobs and give up always seeking being comfortable (instead seeking simply to be a better me in Christ) that I was able find some measure of comfort in life and confidence in my art. Only then did I see that my art was not my solution - & that’s good; who needs that kinda pressure on their job? Only by giving up comfort and seeking the truth (& embracing the uncomfortable truth) did I find safety and begin to develop the attitude that says “I want this, and I want it bad enough to not give up.”

(from Do You Want it Bad Enough?, 2019)

If God is central, everything that goes out from Him is life-giving, and it is in life-giving things that we see beyond the veil of sin nature to something more mystic and wondrous and terrifying and beautiful than we can comprehend. I think it is here that artists who are Christians find their strongest motivation and their best inspiration - no matter what kind of art they do. . . If I as an artist fail to be right with God, fail to pursue my relationship with Him in the midst of the busyness and the ordinary, then I am not functioning as an artist in its truest sense. Only when I do those things, am I able to see beyond what’s in front of me and make good use of it.

(from Infinity in Everyday, 2019)

I went from STRUCTURE to “Ok, now go do lots of art and be amazing at it RIGHT NOW (even though last month completely exhausted you).” I want badly for this year to be the one in which I’m not just doing art for myself, but for work, so when February ended, I wanted to launch right into those goals - and then I shot myself in the foot with the pressure. . . That I must become the artist I want to be, and I must do it now.  . . I have been learning to create differently, learning to wait out my fears in a new way, and in it God has been reminding me that there is time. I do not have to be the artist I want to be tomorrow, even if I would like to be. He is changing me at the pace and in the ways He sees are best for me, and I just move things along more easily if I trust Him. Time is an important factor that I don’t give much credit to. It’s something which God shaves off our rough edges with. Art is much the same, I feel. It takes time to sand out the imperfections and rough spots, to discover yourself in it. . . What I do know is that I am learning balance so that I am growing in my art, but not exhausting myself because taking care of myself properly is something that is not just good for me and my productivity but is also something God is pleased by. I do know that God is telling me that when I pursue my art as I should, I am pursuing Him. I do know that I am built to see Him through the eyes of a creator and when I do, it pleases Him.

(from #28DrawingsLater: Art Challenges, Fear, & Faith, 2020)

All these are things are things that I have written.

All these are things I have forgotten.

Even the last one, which I wrote in 2020, the year which this reflection is focused on. Guess it was just that kind of year... Hah!

For many 2020 has been rough. For me, 2020 was a bit like being on a boat tossed by the waves to such a degree that not only have you lost sight of the horizon line, but you don't have the faintest idea where the horizon line belongs. Down isn't really even something you have a clear sense of anymore. 

The thing that makes my year different from everyone else who had a sucky year is that those rough seas I mentioned, well, they were of my own doing. Everyone else, to some degree at least, can blame their sucky year on Covid19 and racial injustice and "fake news" and political strife and wild fires and on and on (though none of that made me feel better about my year for sure). I know now though that I caused much of my rough seas, so know I am not asking for pity as if I’ve had the worst year out of them all. No, if anything, it would be more appropriate to laugh at my foolishness. 

I wanted 2020 to be the year I said No to my fears and really began looking for art jobs. I wanted 2020 to be the year I felt I was in on top of things for a change. I thought, "This year. This will be when I make as much art as I ought to. When I finally have a portfolio I love. When I'm not constantly trying to catch up with my to do list. I will be on top of it. I will fill out the gaps in my capabilities as an artist. I will start my career as I hope to."

Instead of finding my footing and picking up speed though, I stumbled and fell. I crashed again and again. And again. Aaand again. And yet I never really stopped and truly looked at why, mainly because I couldn't see past my frustration and discouragement and I just needed some hope so badly.

I think I was looking at my feet the whole time instead of the horizon line; I think I was looking within myself to be enough instead of looking to God who is the fountain and origin of all creativity. No wonder I couldn't find my hope. 

I let go of Anchor and my Roots, my Gravity and my Star. I tried to be enough on my own. Between trying to be not just good enough, but the right kind of good - the good that will get jobs, the magical good that will get me what I want - and at the same time thinking that the extra time I was given to work on art this year would surely, surely be enough so that I wasn't constantly trying to play catch up in my personal life- between the combined force of those things, I drove myself into the ground, leaving a long and bloody furrow behind me. I’m still picking grit out of my wounds. 

What an illusion I was under the sway of! What a hilarious dream! That magical good, that idea of being in control and on top of things is not life. That is an impossible ideal. No, if there's anything I learned this year, it's that I cannot and never will be able to do it all. 

I can however, learn to focus on what matters. I can tune into God's voice. Recently I think He has been calling me to know Him more not just by reading the Word and praying, but by experience. Teaching me that I can invest in relationships and find Him there, that I can sharpen my ability to see Him with it. In that place - in community as I am meant to be - I can go forward with confidence, even if I can't see the way. It's one step at a time, one arrow after another. And all along the way, when I'm forgetting the last arrow and I can't quite see the next one, then I must reach out for help and then I must reflect. Remember Him whispering to me through my own art, remember resonating with His Glory as I looked at that sky of brightest blue, remember how I caught His words coming unwittingly from the mouths of those without faith, remember when I read the fingerprints He left on humanity, remember when He spoke words as clear as crystal straight into the core of my very being and I trembled with it. 

Last year, I tried to make it all work by seizing control, by playing god with my life. Of course I couldn't see my way forward! I couldn't see my Horizon Line. Yeah, sometimes the Horizon Line is out of sight. That's life. However, if I know It well enough, if I understand how to see the signs of it, then I know where It ought to be and I know that when I clear this mountain pass, when these trees thin, when these waves flatten out the Horizon Line will be where It has always been and that I have in fact been traveling the right way. 

Art is an inherently emotional thing. We artists build ourselves into everything we make. We wrestle with the deepest essence of communication and connection. Again and again we struggle with these things as we try to pin them down, even if only for a moment, sometimes just for ourselves and sometimes in order to show others. Either way, it is hard and personal work. 

It is work I cannot do alone. 

Yes, and it is possible to go forward with confident expectation, with the belief, if I take the time to recall it, that God is still where I left Him, Will still be with me as go, Will always be where I am going, Is even now eagerly awaiting me at the end.

[feed-our-souls-too]

“Anxiety may be a part of me, but that part is not a very good artist. . . In truth, there is no way for me to know what my audience will like or won’t like. I’ve been so many times wrong about what people like or don’t that I should stop just guessing. My anxiety tries to lower the risk by this kind of technical polish, but it’s not always relevant to each piece, so I’m just going to let [my anxiety] scream next to me when I paint and I’m going to publish it anyway. . . When [Anxiety] keeps telling me ‘Do not publish this. Other people will hate it,’ . . . what I say for it in my own head is ‘Just watch me.’ ”

That struck a cord with me. 

[feed-our-souls-too]

Check out this interview by Ian Dale (& Ian’s art; above are a few samples, which are just a few of the ones seen in the article). Ian is a Christian & illustrator who brings to his art his multicultural experience, beautifully depicting a range of ethnicities in his works, along with his faith, hoping to encourage compassion, understanding, and hope in his viewers.

[feed-our-souls-too]

I talk about self care in the emotional sense here directly or indirectly pretty often, but here's an important side of it: physical self care! This book has been a great resource for how to better take care of my body particularly on those days where almost all I do is sit at a desk.

Here's a small look into the book. It has exercises for everything, funny and informative illustrations, discussions on preventing injury but also taking care of injuries, etc. Every artist should read and practice what's in here!

[feed-our-souls-too]

A post I made on my sketchblog, because that’s where I posted all the art for #28DrawingsLater, so I thought it made more sense there, but I wanted to share here! In all the insanity of Corona Virus and my personal struggles, I’ve not updated the blog in a while. 

#28DrawingsLater: Art Challenges, Fear, & Faith

In February I took part in an art challenge called #28DrawingsLater, which involves doing a drawing a day and posting it on a social media like Instagram (and all my prompts were based on books, because I’m that person who reads all the freaking time). Now it’s April and I’ve been meaning to do a reflection on it for all of March! Granted, this March has kind of been insane for the whole world, so I think I can afford a little slack this time… 

Seriously though, I really did need to take the time to reflect because I came into this challenge with so many hopes and I left it with some new realizations. In all that, I realized that I probably had something good to share and if nothing else, writing about it would help me process it.

Why?

I did #28DrawingsLater because I felt that I needed to prove to myself that I had the self-discipline and the drive to stick with something that big. I needed to see what I could do, prove that I could meet “deadlines,” and understand what it would look like to do MORE art. 

What did I gain from it?

Keep reading

[feed-our-souls-too]

GUYS, I don’t know why I never thought about it like this, but wow, I need to rewatch this movie!

[feed-our-souls-too]

“I have found, as an artist, that when I humble myself and create from a place of pure passion and unadulterated inspiration, Greatness emerges and takes the stage, and I get to fade into the background and slip out the back door...⠀ ⠀ This piece has lived several lives already —having originally been the crown anointing the head of a beautiful forest creature, then having found its way to me... ⠀ ⠀ With ornate flourishes, patterns and design, this antler gains yet another life and soon it will go on to live that full life in the corner of someone else’s world; telling the story of its original Creator, what with its raw and wild wonder. And again, telling the story of the humble artist who saw Beauty and wanted to partner with it, yearning to breathe new life into this old bone...” 

This artist makes beautiful art and equally thoughtful posts. This post struck a cord with me, echoing some things I have been thinking about myself, especially as I was writing Infinity in Everyday.

Definitely go look at and read more of his posts!

[feed-our-souls-too]

Infinity in Everyday

Or How Progress is Hollow Without God

I think reality is buzzing with, drenched in, overflowing with God’s glory. In my mind, I see it sometimes, like the world is swimming in pools of shimmering honey. Like we’re drowning in it and we don’t even know. Like it’s all powdered in gold dust we only see when we aren’t quite focused, like dust motes in a beam of light.

Sin just puts a damper over it, over our eyes. And we get used to it. Used to life and it’s just normal and that’s all it is. 

Now hold onto that thought…

This Christmas season, I have been busy. Not an inherently bad busy. I have been making strides in my art. I have been seeing friends and caring about family and investing in younger believers. I have felt stretched a bit thin, but I have been learning, growing at least a little.  

In all that, God is the center point of my life, the counterweight on which my life turns and turns, like a planet around a star.

Or it should be. 

And you can probably guess that it hasn’t been.

It’s so easy to put God off in favor of easier things and even more deceptively easy to put Him off in favor of an art project or updating my website and taking those other 5 little tasks off my to-do list or other good things like that. It’s most definitely easy to put Him off simply because we do not see that He can be brought into the regular everydayness of life. 

Christians talk at Christmas about how Jesus was born in essence to die, to save us. And that’s true and so, so important. However, I’ve been finding myself thinking about the living a lot more. I think it’s because this year has been one of slow struggling as I learn how to live my faith even when I am comfortable (and thus do not really want to move). I have been learning how to live in the little things, from the more mundane sides of being an artist to doing the little things to keep up on chores (and be a better roommate) to little interactions at work that show I care (and hopefully by extension, show God cares). It’s in the everyday of living that we must sustain, or persevere, for the long haul and it’s the littlest things that require perseverance it seems. 

God lived that. In all its mundanity and normalcy and repetition, as much as in its struggles with darkness and stunning interruptions of hope or it’s joy and buoyant happiness. Jesus lived. And I suppose in those words are an admonishment to me to do the same… but on His strength and with His optimism. Optimism because there is beauty in it all. There has to be. I can’t image the Creator of the world living a life that was anything less than life-giving in every moment, whether mundane or dark or joyful. 

There is more to life than what we see at face value. 

What I mean by “life-giving”: resonating beauty that speaks of who God is and His glory, impactful visions of how life should be, deeper understanding of how life is across human experience, or a trusting embrace of God that accepts the mysteries yet to be revealed. It is seeing the glory of God, in spite of the haze sin nature puts over our eyes, through a person, an action, a thing, a place. It is a way of living that gives in all directions - glory to God and life to both us and others. These experiences we have and actions we take are a conduit by which God breaths new life into us as much as it is a way He breathes it into others - if we let it be that. We all experience these moments at least, like sparks that could start a fire. Whether they become a fire or just some briefly glowing embers depends on how prepared we are for it. Whether they become an experience that we pass on depends on that too. 

I think these experiences are most easily recognizable when we experience them through something like art or an encounter with another person that changes us. Bigger things. Easier to spot things. What does it look like to let even the most every day of experiences be life-giving though? I don’t know entirely, but it definitely starts with being right with God. 

When God peels back reality as I see it, I see His glory pouring over everything and everyone and I itch to create or tell someone how amazing God is or maybe even manage both. But what does that mean if I am not ready to accept that? That I goggle at Him and “Ohhh” and “Ahhh” but get nothing substantial out of it in the end. Maybe I learn something, maybe I even practice it, but I fail to make the most of it because without God’s constant renewal, my vision gets hazy and I forget what I’ve seen so quickly and when I forget, there’s no life to give.

Remember, God says. I have been terrible at remembering this year. God, however, has been faithful to keep teaching me. He is patiently chipping away one part at a time like an artist who knows which chunks of marble aren’t needed, and which are, to reveal the sculpture He has in mind. 

Through His faithfulness, I am fighting to realign myself with Him. Through His faithfulness, I am glimpsing so briefly reality as it ought to be, drenched with His beauty. 

Just maybe through my seeing that, so are you… and isn’t that what an artist is really meant to do, when it all comes down to it?

All that said, what’s my point?

If God is central, everything that goes out from Him is life-giving, and it is in life-giving things that we see beyond the veil of sin nature to something more mystic and wondrous and terrifying and beautiful than we can comprehend. I think it is here that artists who are Christians find their strongest motivation and their best inspiration - no matter what kind of art they do. Maybe it’s because it’s work that God is blessing. Maybe it’s because we have a tangible way to interact with the unknown and infinite - whether through image or performance, text or building, music or something else entirely, and whether strictly considered “spiritual” art or not. Probably, really, it’s both.  

If I as an artist fail to be right with God, fail to pursue my relationship with Him in the midst of the busyness and the ordinary, then I am not functioning as an artist in its truest sense. Only when I do those things, am I able to see beyond what’s in front of me and make good use of it. To see past reality in all it’s regularness and volume and weight to what is glorious and infinite and all around. To be inspired by Who is beyond all I know. I hope that when I have those moments that I, and maybe by extension sometimes, my art, can be like an empty cup, ready to be filled and to carry back it’s contents for others too. 

[feed-our-souls-too]

Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art… it has no survival value; rather it is one of those things which give value to survival.

C.S. Lewis

And that, I would say, is what makes it so necessary. 

[feed-our-souls-too]

Etchr is doing a giveaway and if you're an artist I'm sure they have something you'd enjoy! I've got one of their smaller art bags and it's so great for drawing in museums and painting out in nature (2 things I've used it for). It stores and organizes well, and the "hanging desk" feature is great.