Whirling River Studio has been in existence for very nearly a year now - and some days, I don’t feel anymore like a legitimate artist (or business owner, for that matter) than I did before I started this website. But I have learned some things, about me and about my art. And rolling up on an anniversary of sorts feels like a good time to talk about the lessons I am carrying into year two of being an artist. *This is my standing outside your window holding up the boom box moment.

Thinking about the thing isn’t doing the thing.

I think a lot of artists understand that having the time and space to think about creating can be just as cathartic as the doing thereof. I’m a self-taught abstract expressionist with a hard bent towards nature and landscape in my work. This translates to a lot of thinking and conceptual exploration before I even put paint on the palette. But setting the time aside to explore and play with other things that manifest in our practice needs to happen too; even more-so when we are fumbling self-taught novices. In the last year, I wish I had understood this fundamental truth sooner and made more of the “bad” art that would have advanced my practice further. Do it irregularly, and at two in the morning when the light is horrendous and you know you should be in bed - but please do the art.

Challenge is good for your art

I didn’t really start walking out from the fog of the past two years until about April of 2023; the fog that had settled around me and limited me. I was convinced that I would never be able to do a lot of things physically while supporting my son full time. I asked a friend to come with us on an adventure to see if I could safely and reliably explore on my own. That single supported challenge for myself helped me to broaden the scope of my community and start living life in a new place where I knew nobody. If it weren’t for the challenge, I would never have been able to grow.

The same applies to the practice of art. I have so valued the connections that I have made through the Instagram art community. There is no way I ever would have considered the path that I am on now without having met so many people doing marvellously creative things. But I noticed that a number of artists I was following were so wonderfully familiar and comfortable. I became reassured by elements I saw in my own work because it reminded me of theirs. But I started to ask myself if that meant I was developing my voice, or simply echoing the creative expressions of those in the room. I started to look outside of my “type” of art and find creators who got me excited about art that I can’t/don’t do. It’s changed my perspective on a lot of the work I have made, and informs the art I want to make. I’m curious to see where this line of inquiry takes my practice in the year to come.

Fail with abandon.

This was by far the hardest lesson I’ve taken from the last year. Failure is not a reflection of your value as a person; it is not the legacy in and of itself. Failure is the manifestation of a thousand decisions and choices that pulled you into a side quest. I had come into 2023 with these grand notions of what I would do. I threw myself into opportunities and connections with fantastic people that I subsequently couldn’t follow through on. I let emails go unanswered and dropped so many balls I practically had a kiddie pool full of them. And it was because I wasn’t honest with myself about what resources I had to allocate to all these wonderful endeavours. I had healing to do that wasn't going to be found in over-extending my capacity. Also, teaching a tiny human how to human is hard work. Maybe my failures were the best gift and connection I could have hoped to give him. Give yourself the grace to fail; be accountable when you do. Move forward with the lesson learned.

Stay Safe. Make Things.

Clara