Making Room For Inspiration

'What is this life, if, full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare'

                                                   W.H.Davies

I'm sure you're familiar with this quote; I know I am.  It was a feature of my childhood; my grandmother quoted it regularly.  However, until today, I had never seen it written down.  I thought the 'full of care' in the first line related to 'life', that our lives are full of care, and as a result, we're always busy, and don't take the time to look at things.  Now, though, I interpret it differently; that lovely comma after the if suggests that it is we, ourselves, who are full of care.  What's the difference?  I hear you holler.  Well... rather a lot, I think, when it comes down to it. 

Our lives are possibly full of 'care', demands on our time, on our energy, on our intellect.  If, however, we fill our selves, our heads and hearts, with cares, thinking about them endlessly, worrying about them, rehearsing different scenarios for resolving them, or just feeling sorry for ourselves, then in truth, it doesn't matter whether we stand and stare, or not: if we do, we won't actually see anything. 

To be creative, we need to be in the moment.  To be in the moment means actually paying attention to what is going on right now, the sounds, scents, sights that surround us.  Making ourselves focus on what is in front of us...and nothing else.  As I write, I can see out of the window to the garden.  I've just spent a few minutes looking out at the trees, especially the oak at the end of the garden.  It is a magnificent tree, and its leaves are just beginning to turn into their autumn colours.  Being in the moment is about watching the faint breeze stir the leaves, admiring the sky as it peeps through the foliage... it does not, however embrace thinking that I really must go and rake up the falling leaves, and the bit of branch that got blown off in the last storm...   Make room in your head for creativity.  It's a practice, just like turning up and making the work is a practice.  When you find you're thinking unrelated thoughts, kick them out of your head, and allow yourself to see what is really there...instead of worrying about it.

Perhaps the best way of being in the moment, for me, is to draw something.  Then, there is only room for me to look at a leaf, explore it with my senses, and put that information down on paper.  It doesn't really matter what the end result looks like; the important thing is really the looking, and the seeing, and the engagement with the leaf.  Try it.

Finding Your Star.

"I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,

And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by"

                                                                         John Masefield

When John Masefield (1878-1967) wrote those words, he knew what he was about.  He is describing the behaviour of someone who has found their true vocation.  He is describing a sailor, but he could just as well have been talking about artists.  Being an artist can be lonely, too.  And because it is such a solitary occupation, mostly, it's easy to get lost.  So many ideas, so many media; how do you find a star to steer by?

I believe that we have to create our own star to steer by, by thinking about what it is we want to achieve as artists.  Businesses have 'mission statements', that are intended to help them to focus on what's most important in a maelstrom of choices.  I think artists need something similar.  To help us to make decisions about what it is we want to do, we have to be clear about what it is we are passionate about, and what it is we want to say to the world when we make art.

As an artist, I want to challenge people, to make them think, to show them my inner worlds, and invite them to wonder about them, to find things in the art that relate to their lives, perhaps allowing them to look at things in a different light.  I want them to look closely at things that they might not have noticed before, and find joy in that.  Over the years, my art has reflected that desire, even though I haven't always articulated it in that way before.  That is my star; everything I make has to fit within that framework, or it is not really what I want to do...no matter how tempting it might be. 

What is your star, your mission statement?  What do you want your art to do or to say?  If you're not sure, try looking back on what you've made, and what you are proudest of.  What similarities do these things have?  Is it materials, meaning, style, metaphor...what?  What are you trying to say? It may take some time to work that out, and you may need to talk to others about it, too.  I find that I know what I believe, when I hear what I say.  So talk to others who are supportive of you, and see what they think.  Try to explain what it is that drives you, motivates you to make art.  If you can define that star, it will guide you in choosing what to make in the maelstrom of choices that face you, too.