What’s the art thing you think about all the time?

What’s the art thing you think about all the time? The clock I hear in my head, why we make, and narcissism.

One of my jobs as the Membership Chair for the Alabama Women’s Caucus for Art is to foster community in our Facebook group. So every Wednesday I post a question to the group to generate some conversation. This question lit a fire this past week with the comments from members coming fast and furious all morning. So here are some of my thoughts on “What’s the art thing you think about all the time?”

My ticking clock

I can almost always hear a clock ticking. It keeps track of how long it’s been since I’ve been in the studio and counts down until I have time to be in the studio again. It used to feel like a lot of pressure and yes, I still sometimes feel that pressure. But I’ve learned to live with the sound of it. It’s become more of call to action than an admonition. It’s a gentle reminder of where my deepest self abides. A call to return to myself by myself. (Sometimes I think I’d have been a really good nun in a previous era.)

My internal clock used to rush me. It made me feel like I was always behind and needing to catch up. But I hear it now as more of a reminder of what is waiting for me. Sometimes a reward for when other more pressing matters are accomplished and other times the joyous way I get to start my day.

clock-full-length
My crocheted art piece named Tick Tock.

I think this isn’t so different from other clocks we supposedly hear. The one that tells us to have babies. The one that tells us the time is passing us by in our career. Or the one that tells us we are closer to dying than to having been born. (wow that got dark quick) But also, sometimes the metronome of the clock is very comforting to me. It’s a rhythm to sway to. A way to synch up my thoughts, my breathing, my mind. I don’t mind this clock so much.

Art making as livelihood is a lot of pressure

I love the time I spend in the studio making things but I’ve always felt the push and pull of asking that creativity to support me financially. I’m fortunate that I don’t have to ask that heavy price from my work because lemme tell you if I did, I’d be asking you if you want fries with that combo in the drive-thru line at McDonald’s. Not that people make any kind of real living at McDonald’s either.

The creative process.

I’m forever reminded of the satirical, cynical, and cringe-worthily funny Onion article: Find The Thing You’re Most Passionate About, Then Do It On Nights And Weekends For The Rest Of Your Life. This article feels exactly like this expectation and I am reminded why capitalism is deeply toxic for all of us. If there’s another art-related thing I think about way too much, it’s this article.

And I think about my partner who has worked an outside job/career and written on the weekends for years. I think about all the creatives I know who struggle with this issue and how much better we’d all be with some Universal Basic Income. What could we all accomplish without the rat race of working to feed and house ourselves?

Is what I’m making saying what I want it to say?

I’ll be honest, I’m not sure I think about this question enough. I just make stuff and then move on probably way more than I should. I think because so much of what I make is about the feelings and the process WHILE I am making that once that part is done, I just let the thing be what it is. Maybe that’s also why I can let so much of my art go out into the world. I’ve been with it and shared time and space with it and can move on to the next thing after that making process is over.

I just said that from Conversational Sexism.

I’ve had themes in my shows for sure and yes, then I wonder if what I’m making communicates those themes. But I think that this is such a moment-in-time kind of question because while I am incredibly proud of my show Conversational Sexism, what I would make now would be very different from what I made then. Because I’ve been practicing my art for an additional six years. Of course, it would look different now. Would I communicate it better now than then? Who knows! So it’s incredibly hard for me to divorce the moment in time I made a work and whatever meaning it might have.

Oh man, now I have to go sit in my corner and think about this some more. Please just go ahead and imagine me rolling my eyes at myself.

Is this all just so much narcissism?

Nah. We’ve all spent the past eight years getting a masterclass in what narcissistic behavior looks like. My art making and your art making ain’t that. Women are trained to assume any time spent away from caring directly for others is selfish and I’m here to drop the BS flag on that nonsense.

I know the time I spend making art makes me a better human. I’m much more able to be patient, affirming, thoughtful, and engaged when I’ve had time to practice my art. It’s a putting-my-oxygen-mask-on-first situation. That’s the opposite of narcissism. Leaning to care for ourselves and then turning around and exhibiting that care for others might be the number one thing we should all be doing as humans.

What about you? What’s the art thing you think about all the time? I’d love to know your answers! Catch up with me on socials, email me, or go old school and leave a comment on this post to be immortalized for all of time.


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