Then…

In my teens and 20s I wrote poems and stories, made visual art—but I didn’t share my work. I had a few poems published, but I found creating and sharing stressful and confusing. The vulnerability of it all was too much for me and I didn’t have any support.

and now…

As soon as I began painting seriously I started sharing, first on social media and then at art fairs. Why is it so different now? Well, age is a big one. The loveliness of my 20s was also accompanied by massive insecurity and high key emotion. (Much fun was had, but you couldn’t pay me to go back!) But I think the real difference is my attitude to both creativity and sharing.

I’m not looking for approval or a pat on the back (though I’m happy enough to receive those things). I don’t have wild expectations of success—or of failure. I work hard and I share what I make, usually right away, often in process as well as once the piece is complete. I’m not looking for validation or to impress someone. Again, I wouldn’t mind validation, and I’d be happy to impress you, but I don’t need these things to make me whole or keep me going.

A circulatory system

Now I think of inspiration, creation, and sharing like a circulatory system of energy. I hike and paddle and swim—observing closely, trying to take in the world as fully as possible. Then I create—a process I find more like being a radio that receives than a director that dictates. Once the painting has been created with my best effort, then it needs to go out into the world. I don’t want to hang on to what I make. I want to move on to the next piece.

I do want to sell my work. I’d like this circulation to be a sustainable system. But the sharing is integral to my process, not just about making a living or paying for my expensive tastes in oil paint.

When I was young I wanted to hoard that energy. It was mine—and you couldn’t have it! Now I know that energy and creativity need to flow. Creativity is a renewable resource anyway. I find that the more I create the more creative I am. The paintings must go out into the world, or be sanded down and started again. Either way, things need to circulate.

My favourite way to share

My favourite way to share is at an art fair.

First there’s a deadline. And for me nothing focuses my mind quite like a deadline. Without a deadline it can be difficult to sustain a high level of attention and effort. I often get experimental, which is great, but I can become unfocused. Deadlines urge me to keep going, to pull the thread to the end. And they keep my energy up.

art fair tent with large abstract paintings

My tent at Riverdale ArtWalk back in June, 2023

One of the other things I love about a fair is that I get to see my work as a group. In my studio, there’s mess and clutter. I turn paintings to face the wall—to keep them safe from flying paint. Others are hidden behind a box or in another room. I don’t have the space to display them together.

At a fair the paintings are carefully arranged together in a clean, uncluttered space. I can see them as individuals and as part of a group. I see relationships between pieces that I hadn’t noticed before. I notice trends and possibilities for what I might create next. And then I stand in that booth and experience the atmosphere the paintings generate. It’s an education!

It’s the people

And then the most important thing, of course, is the audience. People come and look. Not everyone of course. Most people walk on by. My work is not their thing. I don’t worry about that too much. I’m not everyone’s cup of tea, and neither is my art. Makes sense.

But the people who do come in, linger, really look—I learn things from them. They tell me how the paintings make them feel. They ask interesting questions. Most questions I’m ready for, but inevitably somebody asks me something surprising—or sees something in my work that had never occurred to me. There’s an exchange.

Fairs are hard work—preparing work for sale (varnishing, wiring, photographing, cataloguing, etc.), driving to the big city, schlepping art around, setting up and tearing down, standing for hours. But I always come away energized, fired up, and keen to get back into the studio.

Stay in touch

Sign up for first access to new work
(and never miss a blog post)

Pin It on Pinterest

Share This