Art Conversations: Can Creating Art Show Us Who We Really Are?

Am I Even an Artist?

Yesterday, I spent time looking through my phone focusing on all of my old art photos. Going all the way back to when I started taking them, I remember the frustration of trying to find myself in my artwork.

Why couldn't I trust myself to experiment or be patient while I found my personal art style? Isn't that why I was drawn to abstract art in the first place?

Why couldn't the image in my head translate in front of me? Why couldn't I mix colors the way I saw them when I am thinking about something?

Did I need an art class? I thought I must be missing something.

Early Attempts to find my abstract style. I played around a lot with colors and water.

Trying to Connect with other Artists

I took several abstract art classes and met some wonderful people. I felt inspired and was learning so much about materials and techniques I didn't know existed. But I felt like an outsider.

My art was colorful and I hated using black. I felt like I was creating things similar to a child while their work was moody and complicated. I tried using charcoal or brown and always wanted to throw it away.

What was wrong with me? Why couldn't I force myself to make it more like their art? 

Everyone also seemed to know everyone else from taking repeated classes. It felt like a family. At first, I loved talking to everyone, but as I started to experiment more, I realized I couldn't create and talk at the same time.

I think people began to see me as anti-social, but I loved listening. I just can't do two things at the same time. I decided not to sign up for another class. It just didn't feel comfortable anymore.

My class liked the piece on the left but it never spoke to me. I loved the piece on the right but it didn't fit with the class ascetic.

The Creative Battle Inside

At home, I tried to create art using water and letting the paint run across the canvas and paper. I added a color and loved it but felt it needed more. I added the next layer but then made myself cry for "ruining it." This happened so many times.

Where was the pleasure that everyone talked about while creating art? Where was the part that was suppose to free my soul?

Why did I keep coming back if I wasn't feeling any of those things? Did I just want to give myself a hard time?

No, I knew there was something there that I needed to figure out. I knew this wasn't just about art. This was a battle inside myself. This was also a challenge to be vulnerable.

But what if I expressed it and no one liked it or worse, what if no one cared? I was going about it the wrong way.

Playing with water while creating. I would add paint and think, "What have I done?"

Permission to Be Childish

I started playing with the art process. I stopped writing and taking photos of my work for a while. I felt raw and honestly, too exposed.

After some time, I felt like painting again. I used crayons and pastels and enjoyed feeling childish. I gave myself permission to use the same colors over and over again.

I started working more on paper, telling myself I could just throw it away if I didn't like it. I started to find comfort creating continuous lines with paint and pastels. I enjoyed the rhythm of circling the paper.

Was this the feeling everyone was talking about? I felt ready to start sharing it again. I started posting more on social media and spent hours updating my website. I was excited about creating art again and sharing it.  

I started rebuilding my confidence working in my art journal. 

​ Selling to Connect to Others

I really wanted to connect with others. But trying to sell your artwork is an overwhelming experience. You put your creativity out there and hope someone connects enough to find value in it.

You can go with the "I create artwork to bring joy" vibe or go with the "My art has a deeper meaning" vibe. At the end of the day, most of us just want to be seen in the artwork we are sharing about ourselves.

We want someone to see us and feel like we are a part of something greater than ourselves. I think that is why I share my inner dialogue when I create. It is as much a part of me trying to connect as the artwork.  

Creating to Remember Myself

As I get older, I see how many of us lose parts of ourselves in relationships or jobs. We adjust ourselves to make life flow more easily.

What if art or any creative experience is a reminder that we are all still inside ourselves somewhere? It reminds us there is always a place to return to who we truly are. We can remember who we are without all the noise.