That’s the promise I made to myself in June 2023. Fulfilling, it makes me take risks that have opened up my life in unforeseen ways. Now I see possibilities everywhere and am game to explore them.
The genesis of this experiment came in July of 2022 when I took a gorgeous country drive to a nearby annual county art show where many of our accomplished local artists exhibit.
There was some amazing art, but also some less accomplished pieces. The latter ones gave me hope. A few made me think, “My art is better.” That thought is often the catalyst for us reaching for something that may have seemed out of reach before. ‘My manuscript is better than that published novel!’
I have no formal art training and never drew well. In my day, if you couldn’t draw, the enticing door marked ARTIST, was slammed shut and bolted against you. There may have been a ferocious-looking, armed guard ready to repel any aspiring riffraff as well.
In 2022, I’d been experimenting with mixed media and abstracts more seriously than before. I felt like I was beginning to come into my own, but I wasn’t there yet. Today, it still hasn’t all come together for me, but I’m much further along than I would have been without that promise to myself.
The two artist friends I attended that show with that July are accomplished painters who hadn’t participated in many exhibits. I suggested we make a pact that we would all enter at least one piece in that show this year (2023), knowing that having that accountability would make me follow through.
The deadline for entering was in June. I began working in earnest in February, intending to have some finished pieces ready when a professional artist friend arrived to give me feedback.
In early summer, my wonderful online artist collective was closing. Those fabulous, supportive women had more than gotten me through the pandemic. They knew me as a writer who had done some stained glass in another life, knitted and transformed old, broken-down furniture. One of the many exciting sparks that occurred in our group was that we often cross-pollinated. Painters began writing poetry, for instance, and this writer started taking her mixed media seriously largely due to them. (You can read about my fabulous group here
Around that time, it occurred to me that I may have been more of a visual artist than a writer all along. Despite all of the finished novel manuscripts on my laptop, I hung out with visual artists, loved museums and galleries, and was always looking for ways to express myself visually. I was a visual thinker as well.
At my artist collective’s closing celebration, the wonderful person who had been holding space for us in such a profound way shared something that opened possibilities for me. She’d been a writer and editor and only began sending her art into the world when she was about to begin steering the ship of our collective. I knew she’d been asked to be part of a couple of shows with three other artists and was excited for her. What I hadn’t realized was that these opportunities had arisen only several months after she started submitting her artwork to shows.
When I heard that, I promised myself to not just be in that annual County show in 2023 but to submit either my artwork or writing twelve times in the coming year.
When the day arrived for my professional artist friend to give me that consultation, I was both nervous and looking forward to it. I’d taken two or three workshops with her over the years and knew she was an inspired teacher who wouldn’t say anything devastating. I love her work and that she is always experimenting and growing.
When she arrived at my house in early June, she looked at my mixed media, my nature and architecture photographs, spirit dolls, and the little houses I create. She told me what she liked about each and had suggestions for small areas on my mixed media pieces that needed a little something. She loved the bits and bobs of broken ceramic, lichens on a stick, seed pods, yarn, and interesting pieces of metal I had all around my work surface and encouraged me to include more of them.
To my amazement, she pointed at the three pieces I’d chosen for the show and some older works in progress and said if I finished the latter, together they would form a collection of ten. A collection? Moi?
She was taking me seriously. It seemed like she was especially taken with my photography, but liked many aspects of my work and saw more potential than I’d expected. She suggested I enter photographs in a juried show in a nearby city and join the International Society of Experimental Artists! I had no idea there was such an entity or that I might be an experimental artist.
My low bar for that annual county show was to avoid embarrassing myself. When I went in July, it was exciting to see my pieces displayed. There were many much better than mine, but I think two of my three held their own. I didn’t expect any awards, honorable mentions, or sales and wasn’t disappointed when none of that happened. One of my friends sold one of hers, and I was happy for her.
Here are the three pieces I exhibited in that show. My favorite one is the first, the second I love as well, the last one, not as much. My friend chose that one. I may mess around with it some more in the future.
The image featured at the top is my favorite. I’m also drawn to the windows through time. The third one includes a photograph that I took of buildings along the Grand Canal in Venice on a seminal trip to Italy. It was moving and deeply meaningful to see where all of my grandparents grew up. I’ll be writing about that soon.
How are you doing? Have you been getting your art or writing out there? Are you finding more acceptances than anticipated or at least useful feedback, or has it seemed a bust? If you feel like sharing, I’d love to hear about your experiences.