Thursday, July 25, 2024 [7:08 PM]
This past week, I was sitting on a blanket at the park with my dog gazing at the sky and reflecting. I’ve thought about the new work I am creating a lot lately. I have felt incredibly nervous to share it — both here and with my close friends. I want to know why, I want to go deeper.
I think a lot of the reason I feel nervous to share my new work is because it feels new. In some ways, I have let go of compartments I’ve constructed for myself. I’m doing things I wouldn’t have dared doing just 4 months ago. It feels like I am abandoning a body of work I’ve developed over the last 5 years. And I don’t want to let people down. I don’t want people to say they miss the old work. Or worse, the old me.
But I can go deeper. There is more to this. Because in every way, my art hasn’t truly changed.
I feel nervous, and I also feel excited. A wave of creativity I haven’t felt in a long time. Energy. I am actualizing the way I think, the way I feel, the way I process creativity. For the first time, it feels like it all aligns. No pieces of the wheel feel missing.
I am still thinking about leaning into the process's uncertainty instead of the process's destination. I’m curious about exploring liminal spaces and documenting the everyday moments in which I encounter these thresholds. I have shifted my focus away from the end product, and have embraced doing the thing because the thing feels right. Because it intrigues me in some way. It tickles my curiosity.
As I look through the five new pieces I have created, I see what’s familiar. I see how my ideas are still present, the materials are just evolving. I’m leaning into myself. It looks different. But it’s still me.
Themes still overly present:
Extending my hand to the top right of a colorful test print to label it.