“Expectations are blindfolds. They come from thinking that we need to be somewhere other than where we are. Start working right now, from the immediate place, with the feelings you have at the moment.”
Although I've always loved creating art, I feel stiff and scared whenever I try new art materials. I have a fear of not knowing what I'm doing and I worry that I'm doing it wrong and it won't turn out. In fact, I haven't tried any new art materials in quite a while. I think it's because I have this preoccupation with the final result.
Currently, I'm researching creativity for my grant project and I've been doing a lot of reading on the subject. In the book Trust the Process: An Artist’s Guide to Letting Go, author Shaun McNiff urges us to be playful with new art materials. He wants us to simply see what the materials can do without an expectation of the final result.
He says, "We do not have to know where we're going at the beginning of the creative act. People who control the work in advance are pushing against the grain of creation, so no wonder there are feelings of inhibition and emptiness."
The other day my son dropped his pristine set of chalk pastels and was utterly devastated. In that moment, I had a flashback to my own childhood urges to keep everything perfect. I thought, what was the point in keeping all those art materials looking new?
So I asked my son if I could use his broken pastels.
I found some black paper and I sat myself out in my backyard. It was a lovely summer evening and I sat for a minute and watched the bumble bees buzzing on my coneflowers. My daughter's interest was sparked, and she sat down next to me and asked for paper. We both started drawing. We chatted. We broke the pastels even more.
It was just right: she was without self-consciousness and I felt the same. We were in the moment and it was playful and relaxing.
I can already see that during the process of this grant project I'm going to be doing more than creating fiber art. I'm giving myself permission to let go of expectations. I'm going to explore new art materials and simply play.
I may even break things more often.
On a summery Saturday afternoon in late June, I got a letter in the mail from the Textile Center. It was very slim. Definitely just one sheet of paper inside. Letters that slim are always letters declining an application, right? Right. It must be a letter to let me know that I did not get the grant, the one whose proposal I had so rigorously worked on for weeks and weeks the previous month.
But yet, I had a good feeling about this grant.
I took the letter out to my backyard. After taking a seat and a deep breath, I slowly opened the letter. Yes, it was just one sheet of paper, but I quickly spotted the word "congratulations" in bold print! In fact, it said, "Congratulations! You have been selected to receive a Jerome Fiber Artist Project Grant for 2018-19."
And so for the next 10 months I am on a journey of discovery. This grant has provided me with the opportunity, the time, and the funds to explore the ideas I find most interesting. And to create art! I'm beyond honored and humbled to have received it.
The Jerome Fiber Artist Project Grant is amazing. For one, I will be supported throughout the duration of the grant period. I still feel like I'm new to the world of textile art, and I'm happy to take all the help and input I can get. But, of course, the most exciting part is that the grant process will culminate with an exhibition of my art at the Textile Center in the spring of 2019. That will be thrilling!
I hope you'll follow along on my journey. I plan to blog about what I'm up to, and I'll also be posting my in-progress work on Instagram.
Of course, I can't continue without saying thank you to the Textile Center for this amazing opportunity! And thank you to the jurors for their belief in me!
Below is the announcement of the recipients of the Jerome Fiber Artist Project Grant for 2018-19.
At the bottom is a slide show of the photos I submitted with my proposal.
You can find out more about the Jerome Project Grant here.