There’s something magical about this time of year, not about the lights, not about the Bedazzled sweatshirts, but about the way that like clockwork, the weeks preceding Christmas turn some people downright ugly. It’s as if they can’t take all the cheerfulness and the animatronic carol bands (there’s one in my hometown) and just decide to wreak a little havoc to satisfy their inner grinch.
Such as the recent case of stolen artwork by Susie Ghahremani of boygirlparty.com, from Giant Robot, a gallery in San Francisco.
As if stealing people’s art isn’t sad enough, I was made even sadder when I learned that one of Susie’s favorite paintings (the one of the little chick) is among the missing. So, as you’re clicking away online and happen to see one of those pieces for sale somewhere, please get in touch with the Giant Robot gallery. And don’t let this little bit of bad stingy news mess with your holiday happiness, okay?
And completely changing gears… now that I have you aware that there’s an art thief on the loose…
If this was a classroom, instead of a bloglet, today is the day I would ask, “How many of you are scared to do your best art? And if you raised your hand, why?” While people more intuitive than me have probably done a better job at banishing (or atleast quieting…bribing with candy, perhaps?) their inner critics, fear still finds its way into my creative production. I’m either of the “too camp” (too crazy, too ridiculous, too obvious, too stupid) or the “not enough camp” (not talented enough, not smart enough, not crafty enough) about 90% of the time, leaving the remaining 10% for times when I’m doing yoga or talking with friends or otherwise disengaged from actually producing anything.
Last night at work someone returned Art and Fear by David Bayles and Ted Orland to the register next to me, and I sat there looking at it for a good part of an hour as I was off and on ringing up customers or helping them decipher the proper spelling of an author’s name or an exact title. Every now and then I kept peeking at the title and ruminating over the ways that “art” (or “craft”) and “fear” run parallel, at least in one’s mind.
I came home and read it with interest as I tend to do all books that come into my life at the right time and right place.
Often I hear other artists/crafters getting down on themselves for not producing enough or being creative enough, so I found this passage on pages 61-62 especially insightful, “A piece of art is the surface expression of a life lived within productive patterns… And in truly happy moments those artistic gestures move beyond simple procedure, and acquire an inherent aesthetic all their own… The become inseparable from the life of the maker. They are canons… They allow not knowing… Once you have found the work you are meant to do, the particulars of any single piece don’t matter all that much.”
Reading that reminded me of the pressure I put on myself to do something new that hasn’t been done before, so much pressure that fear often stops me cold. Hearing it speak of the wild notion that we are truly “inseparable” from our art, and therefore the most qualified ones to create it, has made me take a better look at the fear I have and begin to let it go and trust my own creative voice instead of solely believing the inner critic.
Thanks for this. I’m going through the exact same thing.
knowing that the fear is there and part of the process helps to face the inevitable finding of the thing that these hands were meant to do.
thank you so, so much for passing on the message about my stolen work. just to add another perspective on the inner critic of creative types: as paralyzing as it can be at times, the inner critic is also what compels us to reach further/try harder/exceed our own expectations and achieve excellence.