Keeping It Together

I started this blog when I lost my studio but this week I have been feeling the loss of something else. The book I applied for from New York City as part of the Sketchbook Project is nowhere to be be seen and I’ve had to accept that it’s not going to turn up.

At the start of last year during a quiet period I felt I needed something tangible to work on and weighed up the pros and cons of shelling out money to take part in the Sketchbook Project. I decided to go for it, spurred on by the fact that two beloved friends in Chicago could share in it by visiting and viewing my book as it toured the States.

After an initial burst of activity, the sketch book got put to one side. But when I was suddenly studio-less, I found it became a source of comfort to me. It was something I could work on around the kitchen table after all, and having it helped me focus my thoughts away from the studio situation and towards continuing to produce art.

I rarely work on paper so this was an experiment for me in many ways but once I started, I soon got into making my own mark on it through text, drawing and collage. The work felt different and challenging and (technical and drawing abilities aside!) I was looking forward to it growing into something quite personal and special.

I still had a long way to go with it, but the loss has upset me – partly because it means I won’t get the chance to complete it and partly because some precious vintage magazine cuttings were lost inside it. These had been collected and stored for many years waiting for just the right moment to use them – all gone! Will I ever see them again, I wonder?

I’m just not in the habit of losing things – not on a long term basis, anyway – and the more I’ve thought about it, the more I’ve realised that the loss of the sketch book is a casualty of not having a studio. My working materials and personal collections are generally very well looked after, ordered and controlled. However chaotic things might appear on the surface in my studio, I always have a keen sense of where things are. The sketch book would ordinarily have stayed in the studio, its precise location known.

I now realise that the act of Keeping It Together applies as much to the materials I use for my work as it does to my state of mind. The loss of the sketch book has ultimately been about not keeping it together and so, just as I’ve felt ‘all over the place’ in my head at times, so too have my working materials been, quite literally, all over the place.

It’s becoming clear to me that having a studio means much more to me than just the physical space. As well as being a place to house my vast collection of stuff, there’s something that happens for me in the studio that goes far beyond this. A studio anchors me, effectively containing the feelings and emotions associated with digging up the past and unravelling a lifetime of memories and all the associated paraphernalia that goes with them. My collections are not so much about what I collect as they are about how they define me – the sifting, the sorting, the placing is an integral part of the whole process and my relationship with the things I’ve collected over so many years is an intimate one.

Small wonder then that I haven’t created anything of significance in the past two weeks or so, because if truth be told, however positive a spin I try to put on it, without my things around me, I too have been feeling quite lost.

Now that I’ve really got into the swing of writing this blog, it’s quickly established itself as a positive, integral part of my work as an artist and I’ve been wondering how and why it took me so long to find the nerve to start it. Attending two recent events organised by Artists Talking undoubtedly had an impact on me; there was something about meeting experienced artist/bloggers face to face and hearing them speak so positively about the advantages of blog writing that helped make the whole process appear more tangible and appealing. And the modest and unassuming ways of the chosen speakers added to the overall feeling that blog writing was accessible to anyone willing to give it a go.

But other reasons for feeling able to take the plunge and start writing were due to what I’ve recognised as a shift in my own learning and personal development – an increase in confidence, essentially and a greater self-awareness. More recently, I’ve managed to overcome an innate shyness and to resolve within myself the unsettling feeling associated with appearing immodest and self-indulgent. Growing up in rural England in the 1960s, the daughter of working class parents, the inherent sense of knowing my place in society has to some extent stayed with me. Whilst being encouraged to celebrate the good things in life, there was a sense that any sort of blowing one’s own trumpet or bragging wasn’t welcomed and modesty was seen very much as a virtue. As a working class girl in those times, finding a husband and starting a family was expected to be the height of your ambition.

I made a conscious decision at the start of 2011 to gain more exposure for my art and proposed to use social networking to do so. But while understanding on an intellectual level that self-promotion was necessary in terms of getting my work seen, emotionally, I’d often find myself shying away from it. I would wholeheartedly champion my art work one day, tweet away to my heart’s content about it, only to retreat back into a silenced embarrassment the next. Self doubt? Lack of confidence? Good old fashioned British reserve? Or perhaps an underlying feeling that it really wasn’t my place, particularly as a woman, to promote myself?

I’ve been amazed by how in a very short space of time, writing the blog has helped sharpen my focus – how much it invites in, both from others in terms of their readership and comments, and in relation to myself, in terms of reflective thinking. I’m already beginning to feel accountable to others; and through ‘speaking’ out loud about my work and committing myself to certain things, I now feel like I want to come up with the goods; it’s a useful discipline and in the absence of a studio, I’ve welcomed having it.

My reticence about self-promotion has meant that stepping into the art world has unfolded at a measured pace; frustrating on one level but this slow-but-sure approach has produced something strong and my sense of who I am as an artist (both in a local and global sense) feels solid and sustainable. Meeting like-minded people through my move to Core Gallery last summer, holding on to some of the relationships formed there and then starting this blog has propelled me forward on all sorts of levels and I’m heading into 2012 feeling adventurous and optimistic.

Right now however, there’s a lot of displacement activity going on. I’m thinking about the mechanics of the blog a lot – too much I fear – how and why I’m writing it, why it took so long to get around to doing and so on, is all taking precedence over the actual process of getting down to any art work.

The sketch book I’ve been working on has, as of today, gone from being mislaid to seriously lost and I’m wondering if on some subconscious level, I’ve helped it happen. There are a lot of pages to fill and if I’m going to get it posted back to the States by the required date of January 30^th I’ve got a lot of work to do…

Days can go by sometimes without there being much of real significance in the news. This week has been different; January 3^rd 2012 was a momentous day for the British legal system and I can’t not acknowledge it here; after an eighteen year struggle by his family, the summing up of the Stephen Lawrence case has finally seen two people convicted of his murder – some justice at last for the Lawrence family.

This welcome news came after a spate of bad news stories. In the car on my way home on Tuesday – a news bulletin, shocking as it came through on the radio – reported, one after the other, various fatal stabbings and shootings that had taken place over the Christmas period. The perpetrators according to reports ranged from unassuming, ‘quiet’ people to those who had been exposed to a lifetime of violence. One of the incidents had happened on the street – a random act of violence against an innocent student who’d simply been in the ‘wrong place at the wrong time’ – but the majority had happened in domestic situations.

Ironically, I’d been at the Easter Road football stadium with my family just the day before where the issue of domestic violence had been highlighted. A huge white ribbon was carried onto the pitch by one of the players before the match started and all of them wore a white ribbon during it to show their support in addressing the crime of domestic abuse. I read a report recently that revealed that figures for victims of domestic violence had soared, up by some 35% during the recession of 2011.

I can’t separate any of this from my life as a practising artist – for as long as I can remember, I’ve felt socially engaged and what’s happening in the world around me still touches me and affects my day to day existence. I’ve had some time to reflect on this since losing my studio and it’s been invaluable in firming up my beliefs and intentions for the future. October 31^st 2011, the day I lost my studio space, was a defining day for me; it was when I realised just how integral my role as an artist had become to my daily life. And buoyed up by the support of others, I realised that I wasn’t going to discard a lifelong collection and I wasn’t going to abandon my vocation as an artist. I felt that I was no longer playing at being an artist – I felt like I was one.

A lot of what I’ve written about on this blog so far has centred around people and relationships; they have been a key part of 2011 and in 2012 I’d love to be able to strengthen the connections I’ve made with some of the artists I’ve met; not only are they people who have social consciences and share similar values to my own, but they are people who have encouraged me and complimented my work, instilling in me the confidence to keep on doing what I do.

But as well as nurturing and maintaining relationships, I also want to just get on with making some work – this blog’s contained a significant lack of discussion about any actual work for some weeks now, I’ve noticed and I’d like to feel that I’ll be able to address the balance of the two in the year ahead. I’m hoping it will all start to fall into place once I’ve allowed myself a bit of time to settle into the new studio space. That’s something I’m really looking forward to; the holidays are over – my sons started back at school today, made all the more poignant as I think of Doreen Lawrence’s loss. In terms of Keeping It Together, there can be no finer inspiration than her.

I’m in Scotland and being reminded all over again about how great it is to be here for this festive time of year. The Christmas trees and lights almost invariably stay up until Twelfth night and there’s not that sense of urgency to get everything back to normal that’s so often around in London. There’s the big build up to Hogmanay and New Years Day and a true sense that Christmas week is by no means over, that something exciting is yet to happen.

The sense of anticipation and continuing celebrations with family and friends slows the pace of life down considerably; it feels like there’s time to ‘just be.’ Long walks in vast open landscapes, both in the country and by the sea have been good for the soul and there’s nothing like seeing the wide stretches of horizon for helping to keep things in perspective. The weather here is also a constant reminder that we can’t control everything – we’re at its mercy and we can’t take everything for granted.

Bringing in the New Year and throwing out the old throws up all sorts of questions about life style choices. In the spirit of continuing with the theme of this blog, I’m thinking a lot about what I want to keep from this past year and what I’d like to get rid of – how best to ‘keep it together.’ In a recent blog I wrote about my ‘survival’ being as much about ‘keeping together the community of artists to which I feel I belong as it is about keeping myself and my creative practise together.’

I’ve made a decision to move to a new studio space as soon as it’s ready in the New Year. People who are key to my life as an artist are going to be there, too and I’m feeling positive about thriving in what I anticipate will be a trusting and nourishing environment.

I’ve also made a decision to start the year of 2012 as ‘free’ as I possibly can; positive, hopeful and in honour of my dear Dad, seeing and expecting only the best in people. ‘Free’ is a word my late Father used to describe those with open, easygoing and friendly dispositions – principled, positive, non-judgmental people with an interest in others. It’s a term I’ve always loved and being in Scotland again, amongst its lovely, warm people has reminded me exactly what it means.

I’ve been thinking a lot about community and the sense of belonging that goes hand in hand with it since last writing this blog. Globally of course community is at the forefront of many people’s consciousness – whether it’s in Egypt, Syria, Occupy Wall Street or closer to home at the protest camp outside St Paul’s – we’ve witnessed the strength that can be gained through people coming together in solidarity.

Life often has a habit of acting out the very issues that are on one’s mind I think; in this respect, the past 24 hours have been a sharp reminder of just how important community is to me.

The school term finished yesterday and my sons invited their friends home, anxious all of them, to spend another few hours together before going their separate ways. I was struck by their closeness and the supportive community my children have grown up in; teenagers now, they’ve known many of their peers since nursery school days.

With the film The Iron Lady being talked about so much at the moment, my thoughts have also (unfortunately) been turning to community in relation to Thatcher and that infamous quote of hers: ‘there is no such thing as society.’ Her words still manage to arouse as much anger and outrage in me as they did all those years ago – a despicable and alienating comment, it came as a powerful statement and a blatant attack against community and everything it stood for.

But, still closer to home, a comment I received on Artists Talking yesterday from Rita Cormo also felt timely. It came as a response to a message I’d left on Building Materials, Rita’s first post on a new blog…

www.a-n.co.uk/p/1782814/

I really enjoyed reading it and there were some fantastic images of her work alongside her writing. In the spirit of sharing, I wanted to let her know that.

I loved her response – honest and real – in which Rita wrote about ‘sincerely … preparing for a long and enduring winter with no comments at all.’ Not because she thought that what she had to say and show couldn’t ‘be interesting’ but because ‘I saw very interesting blogs with no comments at all’. Rita goes on to to say how glad she is that she’s not posting into a void and that ‘hopefully this would enhance her will to proceed!’

I’ve checked with her and Rita feels fine about me quoting her. I wanted to because I can relate so strongly to what she’s saying; her sentiments sum up perfectly for me the basic need for supportive communities; groups of people sharing common values and goals, reaching out to each other. I’m conscious of it because for a long time during my foray into the art world, I was without it. And while I was acutely aware that something was missing, I couldn’t ever seem to put my finger on what it was.

I spoke about it in my last blog but more recently I’ve felt it more strongly than ever: there’s a vulnerability within all of us, a deep desire to be accepted – to be heard, to feel needed and to feel included. Encouragement and empathetic understanding from like-minded artists is invaluable; it’s what all of us at some point or other crave and need in order to flourish as creative people.

And so, as I’ve gravitated towards artists who – whether through their website, their blog, their tweets or simply through their presence – have been happy to share a little of themselves, my contacts and support systems have grown. These artists have also invariably been generous, not just in sharing their own work but also in contributing their thoughts and offering support to others – a shining example of this is the ever-generous Rosalind Davis…

www.a-n.co.uk/p/579530/

It’s apparent too on Artists Talking where shared values and emotional connections have been formed and are maintained through ongoing, online dialogue.

Not having a studio has enabled me to stand back a bit, to reflect and to think about what’s important in terms of moving forward – Keeping It Together. Things are definitely looking up.